Diner Dilemma
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: Kelly's cook Jason Morgan and resident waitress Elizabeth Webber cook up more than pancakes in this twisted romantic comedy.
1. Chapter One

**Diner Dilemma – Chapter 1**

Elizabeth Webber hated mornings. Positively loathed them.

If it were up to her, no one would be expected to leave the safe haven of their warm beds and Smurf comforters until noon. Noon was a nice, safe time to face the world.

Not like seven o'clock in the God-forsaken morning.

Not at a cramped diner.

And certainly not while one's self-employed best friend enjoyed an apple turnover that one was forced to bring for her.

Brushing her hair away from her face with the back of her hand, a flushed Elizabeth glared at a smug Emily as she ran across Kelly's to put an end to the Timmer twins' early morning food fight.

"Laugh it up while you can, Em," she spit out as the girl giggled at the stubborn toddlers, with Elizabeth caught in the middle.

"I intend to do so," she replied happily, taking a small sip of her cold milk. "Who wants to sit around in the office listening to Johnny snore while trying against all odds to write a humor column, or should I say 'distinguished social commentary'?" Emily tossed her red locks with a huff. "Certainly not me, and especially not when I could be having _so much fun_ with you."

Elizabeth growled as she finally separated the two boys, tossing a lethal glare at their mother, who was applying makeup while talking into a miniaturized cell phone. "You know," she began, walking quickly back to the counter to pick up the next order, "I should really start charging royalties or whatever on every column you write. You get all your freaking material from me and my crazy life."

"This is true," Emily mused, a slender finger on her chin. "But you get nothing except my gratitude and friendship."

Elizabeth scoffed. "And who the hell wants that? Heck, who the hell _needs _that?"

Emily _tsk tsked_. "Elizabeth, darling," she scolded, "kindly remember that this is a family restaurant."

"Yeah, yeah," was the only response she got as Elizabeth reached over the counter, rising off her toes, to pluck the bottle of ketchup out from underneath. Emily watched her movements – fluid, quick, graceful. A quick pivot here, a feminine twist there, and the gentle _pitter patter_ of her spring pink flip-flops that perfectly matched her tiny toes.

She often wondered what her friend was doing here, in Port Charles of all places, working at a diner. As a would-be professional ballerina with all the talent but none of the social connections, she knew Elizabeth belonged in Boston, studying with the Joffrey ballet as her grandmother had once.

And yet she was here, trying to plop a stubborn blob of ketchup next to the hash brown of a messy five-year old.

She twisted around in her seat, trying to find her busy whirlwind of a friend. "Liz, honey, when can you take a break?" she asked, spying Elizabeth with a platter of danishes. "Come have some breakfast with me."

Elizabeth glanced uncertainly toward the kitchen. "I don't know, Em."

"Oh, please?" Emily begged, clasping her hands together in a gesture of mock-begging. "You've been working forever. I think you're entitled to breakfast by _now_."

Elizabeth whirled gracefully past a crawling baby, crinkling her nose as the preoccupied parent scooped it up. She set her orders down at a table of laughing teenagers, distributing the cheese fries and sodas. "I guess, but I feel bad asking sometimes. Cookie's been here as long as I have, and he hasn't taken a break yet."

Emily raised an eyebrow, a suggestive smile on her lips. "Cookie, huh? Is this what we're calling him these days?"

Elizabeth blushed, dipping her head. "Shut up."

"No, no," Emily hastily assured. "I'm genuinely curious. So, tell me how this endearing nickname came about."

Elizabeth laughed easily, briefly catching the eye of the tall fry cook at the counter. He dipped his head quickly, disappearing back into the kitchen. "Well, it started last week, when me, Penny, Amy, and Cookie were cleaning up after the lunch bunch."

Emily nodded, already spinning up a clever way to weave her friend's newest story into her column. "Go on."

"Well," Elizabeth grinned, placing a small hand on her even smaller waist. "Since there was a lull in the cooking, he came out to see if we needed any help cleaning up. He'd just come out of the double doors," she motioned at the swinging wooden doors that led into the kitchen, "and I totally slammed into him carrying a bowl of melted ice cream."

Her last words were swallowed by giggles, and Emily laughed along. "So, duh, his apron was totally messed up."

Emily bit her lip to stifle her laughter. "Gotta love a man that's secure enough to wear an apron."

Elizabeth laughed, glancing quickly toward the kitchen to make sure Cookie was nowhere around. "That's not even the best part. He takes off the apron, which Amy offered to wash for him later. And then-"

"Wait," Emily interrupted, raising a hand. "Didn't he even get mad at you?"

"Not a bit," Elizabeth replied, the surprise evident in her voice. "I thought for sure my ass was fried."

"Yeah, go on."

"Well, he's looking for a new apron, and he's freaking out because he can't find one. And we're all laughing our butts off, of course."

"Of course," Emily grinned, leaning forward.

"So he's freaking out anyway, and then Penny finds one in the cabinet, and gives it to him. He unfolds it, and starts freaking out even more. It was the funniest thing in the world, Em!"

"Why? What happened?"

Elizabeth covered her mouth, silencing her giggles. "It was this knee-length apron that fastened at the back and the neck, and it was all white. On the front, there was a picture of the Cookie Monster, and it said 'This cook doesn't want a kiss, he wants a cookie'!"

"No way!" Emily cried, leaning forward until her hair almost dipped into her milk. "Did he wear it?"

"Yup!" Elizabeth announced proudly, leaning against the chair across from Emily. "He wore it, all right. And then this young family comes in, and they have two small kids, the oldest one being probably only six. So this kid walks up to Jason, who's standing by the counter, and says, 'You're not a cook, you're a Cookie!', meaning Cookie Monster. It was the cutest thing ever. We gave them all complimentary brownies."

"Aw," Emily sighed. "That is _so_ going into a column. And you're not seeing a dime," she added when Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

The girl laughed, running a hair through her shoulder-length hair. "It's okay; I'm used to it by now."

"So," Emily began, a devious smile on her face. "Go ask 'Cookie' if you can take a break."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Fine," she relented, walking slowly to the counter. She dropped her waitress' platter on the side, placing both hands on the counter and leaning over.

"Ja-ason!"

"What?" came the irritated reply. Elizabeth waited for a minute, and presently a blonde head poked out over the double doors.

She stopped for a minute, caught off guard. Usually he stayed behind in the kitchen, tucked safely out of view. And that was good for her: one look at those sparkling blue eyes had her knees mushier than Kelly's mashed potatoes.

He stared at her expectantly, cocking an eyebrow, as he waited for her to say something. One large hand, glistening with beads of water, rose above the door to tousle his wheat-colored spikes.

Instead of disappearing as she expected it to, the one hand was soon joined by the other as Jason brought both arms up to lean across the swinging doors, crossing his legs at the ankle underneath.

Damn it, she had to say something before he did. What did she want again?

"Uh, would you mind if I took a quick break?" Her voice didn't even sound like her own anymore.

He sniffed, crinkling that fine Roman nose of his. Shrugging, he stretched out the muscles of his neck and shoulders. "Sure. Go ahead."

"Thanks," she squeaked before grabbing a doughnut and scampering away to join her friend.

She sat down quickly, barely remembering to smooth her floral skirt before she did so. As she squirmed in place, she could feel Emily's eyes on her. The awareness soon had a blush creeping up her neck, and Elizabeth stopped fidgeting and began to pick up her doughnut.

"Some things never change, do they?" Emily's voice was low and smug. _Too_ smug, damn it.

Best course of action: run. Second best: feign innocence.

"What are you talking about?" she asked sweetly, licking the cream from inside the doughnut.

"Don't you dare give me that crap, Elizabeth Imogene," Emily ordered, wagging a finger at Elizabeth's nose as she leaned forward. "I know you too well. Nothing has changed."

Damn. It was no use. "I still don't know what you're talking about."

Emily shook her head, disbelief written on her face. "You don't know what I'm talking about? Do I need to spell it out for you? Fine, I will." She sat back, a daring grin on her face. "Y-O-U. J-A-S-O-N." She paused, thinking. "Is 'hot monkey sex' a hyphenated word? I can't remember."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "Emily Bowen!" she shrieked, causing all of Kelly's patrons to stare at her. In the kitchen, Jason even dropped his spatula at the shrill cry.

"You did _not_ just say that!" Elizabeth hissed as the customers went back to their breakfasts. Across from their tables, the teenagers laughed quietly and strained to pick up the conversation.

"And what if I did?" Emily challenged, lifting a perfectly shaped brow. "It's the truth."

"No, it's not," Elizabeth argued lamely, her defense crumbling.

Emily leaned forward, lowering her voice. She was nothing save serious now. "You know it is, I know it is, and the only one who doesn't is good ol' Cookie back there."

Elizabeth sighed, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

Emily waited for her to say something, but when she didn't, she continued. "Hey." Elizabeth looked up. "Hasn't _anything_ changed? Anything?"

When Elizabeth shook her head silently, Emily huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms across her chest. "We haven't talked about Fry Cookie since before Johnny and I left for Arkansas, and that was almost two months ago." Her in-laws had insisted that their son and his new bride spend the holidays at the farm, and Emily quickly learned one thing when it came to Johnny's country-bumpkin parents: Resistance was futile. And stupid.

"Yeah."

"That idiot still hasn't done anything? Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Damn." Emily leaned back in her chair, absently fiddling with a thick lock of her hair. "Are you sure you haven't played too hard to get? Did you drop any more hints that you're interested in him?"

"Why the hell else would I wear a freaking skirt in February?" Elizabeth hissed, lightly pounding a fist on the table. "It's not like I haven't tried."

Emily's mind raced as she tried to analyze the situation. "What else have you done?"

"Well," Elizabeth began, squinting at the ceiling as she struggled to recall the many tactics she had used to try to lure the fry cook. "Like I said, I've worn nothing but short skirts to work for a while, because I think he likes that. Mind you, I said I _think_."

Emily nodded.

"I threatened the other girls and told them to keep their paws off. How's that for subtlety?"

Emily grinned. "Pretty good, from where I'm sitting. I literally almost shoved a pool cue up Carly's nose when she tried to rub up against Johnny at Jake's."

Elizabeth laughed. "Ah, yes. I always forget: you take the cake."

"Damn straight. Go on."

"Well, I touched him every chance I got." When Emily nearly spit out her milk, a flushed Elizabeth hastily amended her statement. "You know what I mean. Like, if I needed the tongs I'd reach around him for them and place a hand on his arm. Stuff like that."

Emily nodded, catching her breath. "Okay, good. I thought you were turning into me."

"God forbid."

"Anyway…"

"Yeah. Um, I can't think of anything else. Oh, wait!" she exclaimed when she noticed Emily shake her head disapprovingly. "I remember. I came in five minutes early one day and rearranged all his spices."

Emily choked on her milk. "Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

"EMILY!"

The teenagers tittered with laughter at the pure shock in Elizabeth's voice, and even Jason poked his head out of the kitchen.

"You want to keep the hysterics to minimum, Webber?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Whatever floats your boat, Cookie."

"Damn it, woman," he growled under his breath. "I told you to stop calling me that."

Emily watched Elizabeth's follow Jason as he disappeared into the kitchen. "That man's a fool."

"Yeah, well." Elizabeth sighed and looked at her watch. "You know, I should really get back to work. I don't feel right taking a break during the breakfast rush."

She slid off the stool and made her way behind the counter to retrieve the coffee before making her rounds for refills. Emily watched her float around the diner effortlessly and couldn't help but scowl down at her milk. She didn't understand how it was possible for people like her to find love and get married and live happily ever after when people like Elizabeth – people who were just as kind and wonderful and loving – ended up alone. It didn't make any sense.

But it wasn't like she pitied her best friend; far from it. Pity was something that Elizabeth refused to accept, hands down. And Emily respected that tremendously. Elizabeth still did her best to squeeze into the proper crowds and events, venues where her talent would be recognized and she where she might finally get the chance to pursue her dream of dancing professionally.

Yup, Jason Morgan was definitely a fool if he didn't see the wonderful woman that was twirling about right under his nose.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two (R)**

Elizabeth arrived early the next day to open up Kelly's, and was surprised to see that the sign had already been turned from _Closed_ to _Open_.

"Hello?" she called, pulling open the door and stepping in. "Anyone around?"

"Yeah," came a gruff reply from the kitchen.

"Jason?" she asked, not sure if it was him or not.

He poked his head out from above the double doors. "Oh, so you're using my real name. That's a welcome change."

She smirked and hung her tweed coat on the coat rack, then looped her crimson scarf over it. "Yeah, well, I got tired of Cookie. But don't worry – I'll have a better nickname for you soon."

"Oh, wonderful," she could hear him toss back from the kitchen. "Something to give my life meaning."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned on the coffee pot. She swept a quick gaze over the counter. Everything seemed to be clean and in order. She might as well get a head start with the food.

She pushed through the double doors and was greeted to the sight of Jason standing at the stove, making pancakes with a spatula in his hand and an omnipresent scowl on his face.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped gaily, twirling over to the large freezer in the back.

Receiving nothing but a grunt in return, she set to work making the bacon. It didn't take long before she had a whole platter full of sizzling strips done and sitting on the heater. Then she mixed the batter for the muffins and scooped it into the trays. Soon, two trays of cinnamon apple muffins and one of blueberry were sitting on the top shelf of the oven.

All that was left to do was get out the orange juice. Elizabeth did just that and quickly ducked out of the kitchen to place the large pitcher on the counter before fluttering right back into the back room to join Jason.

And despite the fact that he did his best to focus on his damn pancakes, the older man was watching her every movement. How she was so cheerful so early in the morning, he just didn't understand. Hell, how she was _always_ so cheerful was something that he didn't understand and doubted that he ever would. What could one person always be so happy about?

He just didn't understand it, and what was more, could hardly relate to that sort of attitude. His mornings were rarely that happy. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his bike shop and garage had burned down a couple months ago due to some freak electric fire and he hadn't bothered to get anything insured.

That was why he was stuck working for his Aunt Bobbie at her crummy little diner. Well, to be fair, it wasn't really _crummy_. It was just the last place that he ever pictured himself working. Since he would rather do anything than ask any of his relatives for money, he had hit the classifieds hard after the fire. His aunt had seen him one day and, remembering how great a cook he was during his younger years, mentioned that she might have a job for him at Kelly's.

He had done his best to refuse, but persistence on the old woman's part and a lack of any bites on the job line had forced him to put on a Cookie Monster apron and pick up a spatula. He scowled at the image of it all – Jason Morgan was a mechanic, not a god damn cook. He belonged in a garage with oil and grime under his fingernails, not in a Mom-and-Pop diner with grease spots on his t-shirt and a social butterfly of a waitress on hand.

He heard her humming to herself as she scrounged around for something to nibble on while she worked. It sounded like an old Broadway musical show tune of some sort, and he wasn't surprised. The woman kept the original cast recording of _My Fair Lady _on permanent rotation in her car stereo – why wouldn't she be singing something from _Aida_ as she checked on the muffins?

But he'd be lying if he said that it annoyed him. Quite to the contrary. Her unique taste had always intrigued him – it was like he had her all figured out, and then she'd start rambling and he'd discover that she knew how to play the bassoon. And he liked it – he liked the random and frequent little glimpses into her personality and her life.

He knew a lot about her, he dared to say. He knew that she was an aspiring ballerina and although he had never seen her dance, it didn't mean that he didn't want to. She was nimble and delicate, with a swan-like neck, perfectly toned arms, a narrow waist, and slender legs that looked, well, endless despite her diminutive frame. She had been working at Kelly's for one and a half years, a year longer than he had. In her spare time, she painted and sculpted, and she'd often come to work with dried spots of paint or clay on her dainty little hands.

Crimson was her favorite color – he had learned that as well. She'd always come into work with colorful outfits and the perfect accessories, and although Jason never noticed those things on other women before, he certainly noticed them on her. He had a hard time picking which outfits he liked best on her – there was that skimpy cream colored dress with the pink flowers that she had worn to the town picnic at Vista Point last summer, when he had still been working in his garage and didn't know her that well. Then there was that long scarlet skirt she'd worn with those tall brown leather boots. He was a sucker for women in leather – always had been, and he had a feeling he always would be.

Then there were those miniskirts – Dear Lord, she nearly gave him a heart attack every time she walked in sporting one of those mod minis. There were the short black ones, the short white ones, the short red ones…but his favorite were the short denim ones. There was something so rugged and yet sweet about a woman in denim.

As he flipped the pancakes with an expertly executed swivel of his wrist, Jason found himself offhandedly wondering if she owned any _leather_ miniskirts.

If she did, he was in major trouble.

It was hard enough working with her as it was – if she showed up sporting leather, he was as good as done. That would be the last straw for whatever shred of his control that remained. Jason did his best to keep their "relationship" – or whatever it was – professional. And that meant barely speaking three sentences daily to her, scowling whenever she talked to him, and making himself scarce in general. Because he knew that if he gave in to what he really, truly felt like doing, they'd be upstairs in her bedroom above Kelly's and going at it while the pancakes burned to a crisp.

Speaking of pancakes, he knew that she loved them. She normally didn't have time to eat breakfast but whenever she did, she sat down with a tall stack of the ones he made every morning and fairly drenched them in syrup before devouring them. That was another thing about the woman – she ate and ate and ate, yet never seemed to gain a pound. She wasn't like all the other women he had known, as Jason soon learned – she wasn't vain, she wasn't vacuous, and she wasn't constantly fretting about the way she looked. She preferred the more important things in life – her friends, her artwork, and her schoolwork.

Jason also knew that she was a senior at PCU and would be graduating with a degree in Music Theory that coming June. That put her well ahead of him, of course. Despite the fact that he was seven years her senior, Jason hadn't ever finished college. His mother had died from breast cancer during his freshman year and school just didn't seem important afterwards. He had quit and started up his own successful garage, and things had been going great until that damn fire.

And now he was here.

Making pancakes.

While nimble ballerina Elizabeth Webber pranced around him on legs that he wanted to hook over his shoulders as he-

"You want some orange juice, Morgan?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly appearing at his side with a couple of ripe mandarin oranges in her hand. He gaped at her in surprise as she opened the cabinet by his head and pulled out an old fashioned juicer. "I'm about to squeeze myself some. You want it or not?"

"No," he answered with a rough shake of his head. "I'm good."

"OK," she chirped gaily as she pulled out a knife from the nearby drawer. He expected her to retreat to the counters on the opposite side of the kitchen to prepare her fresh juice, but she remained at his side. "So, what's new in your life, Morgan?"

He frowned. What was this – _Oprah_? Why did the woman have to ask him that every day? Why was she never able to take 'nothing' as an answer?

"Nothing."

Elizabeth snorted. "Oh, come on. You always say nothing – do you mean to tell me that _nothing_ worth mentioning has happened to you recently?"

Jason shook his head, keeping his gaze down. "Not all of us lead exciting lives like you, Webber."

He heard her giggle and her forearm brushed innocently against him. "This is true," she conceded with a bright smile. "I do lead a rather charmed existence, don't I?"

Jason smirked at her sarcasm but knew better than to say anything.

"After all," she grinned, looking up at him as she placed half an orange on the juicer and began to press down as she turned it. "I have a lovely bedroom apartment right above where I work, a simply charming studio where I can paint and work on my sculptures, a wonderful circle of friends, and I get to work alongside the most cheerful and invigorating fry cook in the world. Clearly, it doesn't get any better than this!"

Jason flipped the last pancake over and turned to stare down at her. Though his expression was serious, she could see the twinkle in his blue eyes – the same twinkle that turned her knees to water.

"Are you making fun of me?"

Her grin grew despite her best efforts to keep it in check, and Jason was pulled in by her dazzling sapphire orbs.

"Would I do that?" She was laughing, but her laughter turned into a cry of surprise as Jason flipped off the stove and grabbed her waist, neatly depositing her on the counter where she had been working on her fresh orange juice.

"Jason-"

"Yes, you would, Webber," he replied, his blue eyes narrowed playfully. Elizabeth's heart beat out a drum solo in her chest – Jason Morgan was rarely playful. And he was just _oh-so-sexy_ when he was. His crooked little smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes when he teased her were enough to make her forget her own name.

"And I've been pretty good about it," he conceded, tilting his head just _so_ as he studied her. "But if you're going to keep at it, then maybe I should get in on the action, too."

She crinkled her nose in that cute little way he loved, and he could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to process his new behavior.

"I wasn't aware that you…had any gripes with me," Elizabeth teased. The physical contact initiated by him was quite surprising and caught her completely off guard, but the fact that maybe – just _maybe_ – he was flirting with her made the blood hum through Elizabeth's veins.

And if he was going to be flirting with her, she'd be flirting right back.

Jason unconsciously sucked in a breath when Elizabeth's leg came in contact with his torso as she crossed her legs between them. He was standing very close to her – she was seated on the counter, his hands on both sides of her thighs, and barely an inch or so of space separating her legs and his thighs. Added to the fact that Jason was leaning into her and she into him, and he suddenly didn't think that this little routine would come off as playful as he had originally intended.

Damn.

"Are you tired of me, Morgan?" Elizabeth teased more, cocking her head to the side. Her chocolate locks, wavy this morning, fell by her temple and Jason resisted the urge to reach out and sweep them back. "Do I _annoy_ you?"

He fought to keep his voice serious. "Yeah."

"What is it about me?" she persisted, knowing full well that he was just teasing. "What makes me so…intolerable?"

She moved her legs again, this time uncrossing and recrossing them the opposite way, and Jason did his best to keep his gaze steady. It certainly wasn't easy, as the simple brush of her bare knee against his tee-shirt sent tingles of awareness straight down south. And on top of that, she was wearing one of his favorite skirts today – the stone washed denim one with the frayed edges. It had two slits on the side, revealing her creamy thighs, and that was exactly where Jason's thumbs were headed as if of their own volition.

Damn, that woman had a sexy voice. He had barely been able to keep his eyes from glazing over while she talked – how the hell did women _do_ that? They knew just how to make their voices sound to turn the men in their lives to mush. Those low, sexy, sultry notes were perfect music to his ears.

"Well," he began slowly, experimenting with his own voice in an attempt to see if lowering it had any affect on the playful minx before him. "See, you have this habit of singing…"

Her eyes widened innocently. "Don't you like my voice, Jason?"

His grin spread, slow and sexy, and Elizabeth batted her lashes at him. "You've never complained before."

"OK, fine," he conceded smoothly. "But what about the hysterics?"

"What about them?" she shrugged innocently. "I'm an excitable person."

"You're a noisy person," he corrected, leaning closer. His eyes were level with hers and bore into Elizabeth's darker orbs. She crinkled her nose at his mild insult and smacked him lightly on the chest with both hands. But she surprised him greatly by not removing her hands as he thought she would, but smoothing them up his shoulders until her hands were loosely clasped behind his neck.

"Maybe I'm just trying to make up for the fact that you're a living block of frozen concrete."

"Frozen?" he frowned.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded with a small smile. She passed the pink tip of her tongue over her full lips, leaving them glistening, and Jason had to bite his own to keep himself quiet. "Because not only are you silent – you're cold."

Jason stared sharply at her. "Cold?"

"That's what I said, Morgan," she replied smugly. Her nails scraped lightly against the golden hairs at his nape. "You're a – uh, a-"

His thumbs had found her skin, resulting in Elizabeth's sudden lack of brain activity. Jason watched her eyes darken, the pupils blazing, as he swept the rough pad of his thumbs against her soft skin.

His nose was a scant distance from hers when he leaned closer still. "I'm what?"

Jason's thumb slid under the denim fabric of her skirt and Elizabeth's mouth went as dry as a sock. Her dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits when Jason's twinkled; the bastard knew _exactly_ what reaction he was causing.

"You're a cold, unfeeling Borg," Elizabeth whispered, resisting the will to let her eyes flutter shut as his thumbs continued to elicit wonderful sensations from her lower body.

His nose bumped into hers, and she could see his eyes crinkle as he flashed one of those ultra-sexy slow, crooked grins at her. "Careful." Jason's breath was warm against her flushed skin as his lips brushed hers for the first time during their playful little routine. "That's just the mask I put on for everyone else."

Elizabeth sighed softly when he kissed the corner of her mouth, and her hand found his jaw as he angled his head to kiss the other corner. Her long fingers trembled against the rough stubble on his cheek in anticipation as Jason swept his tongue over her lips, uniting the path of his kisses.

And that was when Elizabeth just couldn't take it anymore – she kissed him.

Her aggressiveness startled Jason, who was planning on making the first moves himself. But the older man had absolutely no problem turning all the control over to the nimble young woman before him. The same nimble young woman whose crossed legs now opened to accept his hips between her knees. Jason removed one hand from the slit in her skirt, as hard as it was for him to do so, and splayed it low against her back to effectively pull her toward him.

Elizabeth's hands framed his face and she purred into his mouth as she deepened the kiss. She pressed her tongue against his lips and that was all the invitation Jason needed. He quickly parted his lips and her tongue slithered in to mate and duel with his. The one hand that remained under the slit of her skirt pulled her forward slowly, the carefully-worn denim sliding over the smooth countertop.

Her low, sexy moan, hovering between them, spurred Jason to take control. Elizabeth gasped for breath as he kissed her fiercely, his force causing her to melt in his arms. One hand fisted in her wavy hair, the curly ringlets spilling over his callused fingers, and Jason wrapped the other around her bottom and quickly brought her forward, against him.

Jason growled into her mouth, pulling back for one slight moment to catch his breath before diving right back in for more. She tasted sweet and spicy – warm cider on a cold day, melting marshmallows on a muggy summer night – and bright colors exploded against the dark curtains of his closed eyes – gold, crimson, burnt orange. Jason drank Elizabeth in like a man dying of thirst and stole her breath away in the process.

His hand on her rear tightened, those long fingers digging in to her soft skin. Elizabeth's hands trembled before she speared her fingers through his wheat-colored locks and she easily lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, crossing them at the ankle.

Jason had almost pulled her off the counter completely at that point, and as he supported the entirety of her weight with his arms, Elizabeth could feel his arousal pressing up against her most intimate parts. Her breathing quickened – if that was at all possible – and became shallower. No man had ever gotten her this excited, this quickly. But then again, she shouldn't have been surprised – very few things about Jason likened him to any of the other men she had ever known. He was a far cry from the immature guitar player she dated through high school, the self-righteous liberal she had protested with during her first year in college, or the yuppie investment banker that had been after her a couple months ago.

Jason was completely different from all those men – he was in a league of his own. He was rugged and self-sufficient – and besides that, he obviously knew how to handle himself. His right hand was already working its way under the hem of her skirt, eliciting the most delicious sensations and hums while he made love to her with his mouth. Hopefully, she'd be getting more of that later, too.

He was strong and hard, and nothing about him suggested weakness or incompetence. The tender way he had teased and flirted with her at first spoke volumes for the attention and care he obviously bestowed on the object of his affections, and the animalistic way he was kissing her – as if he'd like nothing better than to take her against the refrigerator at that very moment – told her all she needed to know about his sexual prowess.

A knot low in her belly formed, winding tighter and tighter as Jason's strong fingers kneaded her thigh, and Elizabeth had to press her lips firmly to his to stifle her moan of pleasure. She didn't succeed, and Jason's grip on her tightened when he heard her. He was holding her in his arms completely now, and was pressed intimately against her.

Elizabeth whimpered into his mouth and fisted her hand in his hair as the fingers of the other one dug into his broad shoulder. That coil at her center was knotting itself into tighter and tighter coils and was emanating trembles and shivers throughout her slight frame. Jason let loose with a primal growl when she tightened her legs around him, bringing them even closer together.

"Jason."

Her husky voice, though only a whisper, was a gunshot in the silent kitchen. Jason pulled back and breathed deeply, resting his forehead tenderly against hers as his eyes fluttered shut. He still supported her in his arms, and any slight movement on Elizabeth's part was felt acutely.

"Now. Here."

He sucked in a breath when she pressed her lips desperately to his and kissed her back with equal intensity. Elizabeth arched her back, the movement causing Jason to stumble back a step. His chuckle was low and raspy as he angled his head and bit her lip, only to soothe it with a sensual swipe of his tongue.

"You sure?"

Her insides melted at the sound of his husky voice, as smooth as silk, and she nodded. That was all that she could remember to do, what with the way his hand was slowly creeping up to the junction of her thighs. Jason's heartbeat was erratic under her palm, and each breath was shallow and quick. Her hand snaked between them and made its way south to the buckle of his jeans, and the anticipation made Jason's head swim. He was about to loosen his grip on her for just a minute to do it himself when a certain voice had him scrambling to set Elizabeth down completely instead.

"Hey, Elizabeth, instead of orange, do you think I could get some apple juice in-"

Elizabeth's gasp echoed through the silent kitchen, accompanied by an identical gasp from the intruder. Two pairs of blue eyes flew open to find an equally stunned pair of green eyes by the door.

Emily Bowen, one hand on the swinging wooden door and the other covering her mouth, wanted to crawl into a hole and _die_. That was at least much better than what her best friend would have in store from her if Jason Morgan ever got his hand out from under her skirt.

"Oh, my freaking-"

Elizabeth's porcelain skin flushed scarlet and she scrambled down to the safety of the dark tiles. Jason let her go quickly and turned on his heel, intent on regaining his composure and not daring to let Emily glimpse him in his current…state.

"Emily-"

The redhead's eyes were squeezed shut as she waved a hand at her friend and tried to back out of the kitchen. "Oh, my God, I am _so_ sorry," she stammered. "I-oh, man, I can't believe I – holy shit. I am _so _sorry."

She finally dared to peek out at the couple; Elizabeth's gaze was averted and the blushing brunette was rubbing her neck, trying to calm herself down. Jason, on the other hand, seemed more composed but still wouldn't meet her eyes. "I am so sorry – pretend I was never really here – well, I don't know if that'll work – but I am _so_ sorry. I _promise_ that I'll knock next time, I just-"

Jason silenced her with a wave of his hand. "It's fine," he replied gruffly. The older man didn't even spare Elizabeth a second glance as he strode past Emily for the door. "It's, uh, probably better this way."

With that, he stepped out into the restaurant and disappeared into the cold February air in only his t-shirt, leaving a humiliated Elizabeth and an equally flustered Emily to stare at each other in confusion.

"Elizabeth-"

The brunette held up her hands, effectively silencing her well-meaning friend. "Please, Em," she whispered, her eyes closed. "Not now."

No, now was definitely not a good time for whatever Emily had to say. Especially not after what Jason had said – what the hell did he mean that it was better this way? That was precisely what Elizabeth was so determined to find out.

Emily bit her lip as the petite brunette quickly left the small kitchen, following the same path as her co-worker. She found him standing right outside Kelly's, his eyes closed and his strong arms crossed over his solid chest as the cold wind howled about him.

"Jason?"

He didn't turn at the sound of his name, but Elizabeth knew that he heard her by the way he bowed his head. After waiting a moment, the brunette just couldn't take it anymore and stalked forward, turning in front of him so that they were standing face to face. The wind was cold against her bare legs, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to at least preserve some of her body heat.

"Jason."

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he forced himself to meet her dark gaze.

"Jason, talk to me."

His brows furrowed as Jason fought to keep himself detached. "About what, Elizabeth? What's there left to talk about?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "Excuse me? How about what happened in there? How about-"

"That can't happen again."

The words were quick and terse, leaving little room for argument. And they certainly were more characteristic of the scowling, sullen Jason she had known for months than the one that had been on fire as he stroked her own flames of passion. But it was the finality of the words that cut Elizabeth to the quick, even worse than the wind that cut straight to her bones.

"W-What?"

"That – that was a mistake. It can't happen again." Jason frowned off into the distance, as if unable to meet her perplexed gaze, and that only caused Elizabeth's anger to grow and rise up. She stalked forward a step, ignoring how her legs felt frozen and her toes felt as if they'd fall off.

"Listen, Morgan-"

"No," he cut her off quickly, this time meeting her gaze as he backed up a step. "Look, Elizabeth, it was a mistake. I didn't mean to do any of it, and I'm sure you didn't, either. We were just two people that got caught up in the heat of the moment, and I'm sure we both would have regretted it if we had continued. That's all it was – just two people that didn't know what they were doing. It shouldn't have happened, and thankfully, someone put a stop to it. And it won't happen again – so let's not make it into anything more."

That was the most he had ever said to her, and that was the most he had ever hurt her. All his terse replies, his omnipresent scowls and dark moods, none of them compared to the way he shut her down on that cold February morning. And what was worse was that he didn't even stay to make sure she agreed – he just turned on his heel and pulled the door to the diner open.

She didn't hear the merry little way the bells tinkled when the door opened. She didn't hear the Perry Como song that Emily, the lone customer, was playing on the jukebox inside. All Elizabeth heard was what Jason had said.

And the frost in his tone was colder and more painful than the frost that shrouded the ground where she stood.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Emily Bowen-O'Brien had spent the last four hours wishing she was dead. After what she had done to her best friend in the whole wide world, she _deserved_ to be rotting six feet under with only the worms and bodily decay to keep her company.

Dear Lord.

She had walked in on Elizabeth and Jason obviously getting it on in the kitchen.

And for what?

Some goddamn apple juice! What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just stick with the fricking orange? Even if it was extra-pulpy and she hated pulpy ever since Johnny had forced large quantities of it into her body when she had the flu, and now it made her sick. Well, being sick was better than ruining Elizabeth's chance with the hunky fry-cook any day.

She wouldn't soon forget the look on Elizabeth's face when Jason had blustered out of the kitchen as if the seat of his pants was on fire. She looked…crushed. Like something she had wanted for so long was instantly seized from her the moment she touched it. And in effect, that was exactly what had happened. She and Jason had spent all of five minutes out in the cold and although Emily couldn't hear a word through the damn doors, she tried her best to eavesdrop anyway. Things weren't looking so great. And then Jason stormed back in and straight into the kitchen again, leaving Elizabeth out on her own for the next few minutes. Emily had finally worked up the nerve to go out herself to talk to her friend, who was then slumped in one of the chairs outside the door, but the minute she sat down Elizabeth had risen and gone back to work.

And so Emily had hung around the diner until her friend's shift finished, feeling hideous for even allowing herself in Elizabeth's sight and yet unable to drag herself away when she knew her friend was hurting. She had tried to pull her away for a minute to talk but Elizabeth had resisted. Instead, she kept serving her tables steadily without missing a step and only went into the kitchen when she couldn't possibly avoid it. The other girls helped out from a sense of sheer decency – Penny would always retrieve both her and Elizabeth's orders from the kitchen so that Elizabeth wouldn't have to set foot inside.

And there Emily sat, at a small table in the alcove, four hours later. She had waved away any of the girls' attempts to serve her, wanting only for time to hurry up so that Elizabeth's shift would be over. The minutes bled away, one after the other and pretty soon Elizabeth was done serving the lunch bunch and had the rest of the day to herself.

The brunette gratefully handed her apron to Penny who had offered to hang it up in its appropriate place in the kitchen, and then trudged up the stairs to her room. Emily immediately stood up to follow her but at the exact moment that she grabbed her purse and got ready to go up, Jason's blonde head poked out from over the double doors and the older man quickly raked a gaze across the diner. Emily frowned when she realized that the only word for the look on his face was relief – relief that Elizabeth was no longer around.

And that left Emily O'Brien in quite a quandary of her own. Was she to follow Elizabeth upstairs and talk to her? Or…

Wasting no time in thinking about it, as was true to her way, Emily grabbed her clutch bag in her hand and strode decisively over to the double doors and into the kitchen. Jason was sitting on the counter by the stove, staring at the wall, and turned a lethal glare on her when he heard her stiletto boots click over the hardwood.

"What do you want?" he growled in a voice rougher than sandpaper. "You're not allowed in here."

Emily ignored him and crossed her arms over her chest. "I need to talk to you."

Jason huffed and shook his head. "I don't even know you. If you think-"

"I _think_," Emily continued, bristling under her silk collar, "that you are going to tell me exactly what crawled up your ass and set up camp."

The fine Roman nose crinkled as Jason scowled at her. "Get out of here."

"Not until you tell me why you were such a jerk to Elizabeth," Emily refused stubbornly. "Look, it was my fault for walking in on you two-"

"No argument there."

"-but there was no need to take it out on her."

"I didn't take _anything_ out on her," Jason spit out. "Now why don't you just totter back over to your table, Princess, and quit sticking your upturned little nose where it doesn't belong."

Emily flipped her fiery mane over her shoulder, not at all intimidated by the man who dwarfed her five foot three figure with his own towering frame. "Try again, Morgan. If you didn't take anything out on her, then why did she look like someone sucker-punched her out there?"

Jason cringed at the description and a new wave of self-loathing instantly washed over him. Damn. He hated that he hurt her that way. But it was probably for the best; she didn't belong with a nothing like him anyway. "Try minding your own business for once in your life, Princess."

"First of all," the redhead seethed, "It's Emily, Emily O'Brien, not Princess. Second, anything that happens to Elizabeth _is_ my business. So if some ass decides to trample her to the ground, then, hell yeah, I have the right to go after him and serve him his balls on a platter."

Jason snorted. "Whatever you say, _Emily O'Brien_. Take your tough talk somewhere else and leave me the hell alone."

Emily's green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she stepped up to him, staring him down. "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Jason took one look at her and snorted before pushing his way past her. "You would if you knew what was good for you."

Her laughter behind him only irritated him further. "Is that supposed to be a threat, Morgan? Is that how you get your jollies? Seriously, is it? Threatening strange women and blowing off the more familiar ones?"

"Why won't you leave? Is being a nosey little twit how you get _your_ jollies?"

Emily slammed her clutch bag on the counter, not even blinking when her lipsticks crashed audibly against the wood, and put her hands on her hips. "Tell me why you hurt her."

Jason's shoulders fell on an exasperated sigh. "It wasn't intentional."

"That doesn't mean you didn't hurt her, regardless."

"It would have been a mistake."

Angry as Emily was with him, with herself, even, she didn't miss the dejected set of his shoulders. "Why?"

Jason didn't answer for a moment, and Emily began to wonder if he had heard her or not. She was going to ask again when he spoke. "I think you need to leave."

But Emily wasn't going to have any of that, as Jason realized when she placed a hand on his shoulder and boldly jerked him around to face her. "Why would it have been a mistake? Why?"

Jason's eyes sizzled with anger; the little woman in front of him just wouldn't take a hint. "That's none of your business. For the millionth time, just leave!"

"No!" she yelled back. "Tell me why – why was it a mistake? I should have known you were one of those egotistical assholes that thinks he can do no wrong. Well, you know what, pal? You're the one that's missing out here, because a man can't do much better than Elizabeth Webber."

"Tell me something I don't know," he muttered under his breath as he turned back around to fiddle with the stove. Unfortunately for him, Emily had heard the admission and lost no time in pouncing on him.

"Then why?" she demanded as she reached out and turned him around again, a little habit that was really beginning to grate on Jason's last nerves. He hated being touched, and by strange annoying women, no less. God damn, how he wanted to step on her. Maybe that would shut her up. "Why is it a mistake?"

That was it.

"Why?" he demanded, stalking forward until they were standing toe to toe. If Emily was frightened by his sudden outburst or the violent sparks in his electric eyes, the redhead did her best not to show it. "Why? Fine, I'll tell you why! You're right – a guy can't do much better than Elizabeth. She's smart and funny and nice and perfect – yeah, I get that. That's why it would have been a mistake, all right?" He was beyond angry right now, and it was only in his anger that the words were flowing forth as they were. Normally, Jason didn't discuss his emotions and certainly never with random customers. But he was far from his normal state of mind at the moment; after that hot make-out session with Elizabeth – who wasn't wearing a bra, either, not that that was something he needed to be remembering right now – and then being forced to avoid her after their little conversation outside, he was teetering on the brink of his sanity. And Emily O'Brien had just placed both hands firmly against his chest and shoved him off the edge.

"She doesn't need me fucking up her life, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, Princess? That I think she'd be better off as far away from a nobody like me as possible? Is that the answer you were waiting for?"

Emily jumped when he brought a fist slamming down on the counter, immediately regretting her words during the altercation. Shifting her weight awkwardly from foot to foot as Jason remained bent over the counter, his chest heaving from his angry onslaught, Emily frantically tried to think up the best escape. When that didn't work, she figured she'd just mumble something and be out of there lightning fast.

"I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – to upset you like this. Uh, maybe I'll just go." With that, she was flying out of the kitchen and streaking up the stairs to the safe haven of the dim, empty landing outside Elizabeth's room. She stood there for a few minutes, trying to wrap her head around what Jason had blurted out.

Did he really think he wasn't good enough for Elizabeth? The more Emily thought about it, the more it made sense to her. Jason probably figured that since he was a mechanic that lost everything in a fire and was now forced to work at Kelly's and Elizabeth was an artsy college student, they didn't have much in common anyway. That and the whole thing of his calloused fingers contrasted with her soft, delicate ones, and she could see how Jason Morgan might work up an inferiority complex.

But that didn't change what she already knew – fight as he may, pretend as he may, it was obvious that Jason wanted Elizabeth. And that was what Emily would have to build on if she hoped to fix this at all.

Elizabeth was lying face down on her twin bed when Emily let herself in. The curtains were drawn back and the light reflected by the snow outside bathed the room in a bright, powdery silver. Elizabeth's shoes lay discarded by her dresser and Emily took hers off there as well, dropping her purse next to her friend's hair brush and perfume bottles. Slowly, she settled onto the bed, not wanting her weight to jostle Elizabeth even though she knew the brunette wasn't sleeping.

"Elizabeth?"

Her friend muttered something under her breath and turned her face away, burrowing into the crook of her arm. Emily sighed and reached out to stroke her hair, trying again.

"Liz? You wanna talk about it, hon?"

Elizabeth's sigh was a whisper in the quiet room, but her friend didn't say anything further. Emily was regretting barging in and asking her to spill her guts so soon, but Elizabeth's soft voice interrupted her mental berating.

"God, Em. I made such a fool out of myself."

The redhead's heart nearly broke in two at the sadness in her best friend's voice. "Oh, honey, oh, no, you didn't. That was me, remember?"

Her humorous attempt to lighten the mood barely caused the corner of Elizabeth's mouth to lift. "It wasn't your fault, Emily."

The woman sitting next to her cringed, and her wedding band caught the silver light as she reached up to sweep a curtain of red hair behind her ear. "I walked in on you guys, Elizabeth," she reminded her. "God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to mess things up for you. If I had just kept my big mouth shut and forced the pulp down, you two could've-"

"Em, stop," Elizabeth ordered wearily. The brunette didn't even make the slightest effort to get up off her pale blue snowflake comforter. "Just trust me on this one, okay? I don't blame you at all. It's not your fault that Jason's not attracted to me."

Emily's slender brows furrowed at that. "What? Elizabeth, you can't honestly think that."

Her friend quirked a brow and then sadly slumped down onto the comforter again, picking at a loose thread. "He doesn't want me, Em."

"Like hell he doesn't!" Emily exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "Elizabeth, from what I saw in that kitchen, not only does he have it bad for you, but he's had it bad for a long time."

"He just got caught up in the moment," Elizabeth argued back lamely, lifting a section of the comforter up as she pulled that same loose thread taut.

Emily rolled her eyes and slapped a hand down on the mattress, snapping the blue thread from Elizabeth's slender fingers. "Think about it for a minute, Liz – would that _moment_, as wise a euphemism it is, have happened in the first place if Jason hadn't been attracted to you?" She let her friend think about it for all of three seconds before answering herself. "Nope. Not so much. He wants you, Liz. And he's been fighting it. But when…that happened in the kitchen, whatever it was that got it started, he couldn't control himself. If that doesn't prove to you that he wants you, I don't know what will."

"You're reading too much into it, Em," Elizabeth disagreed, dragging a hand over her face to clear away a lacy curtain of chocolate waves. "He was just being a guy."

"Elizabeth, he was holding you in his arms and was ready to take you right in the middle of the kitchen," Emily pointed out objectively, ignoring the crimson stains that spread across Elizabeth's cheeks. "There's no way he was just being a guy. Honey, that man _wanted_ you. He was just able to stop himself. Damn it."

Elizabeth watched curiously as Emily glowered at her socked toes, bringing an index finger up to her mouth and nibbling on the polished nail. She knew that look in Emily's eyes – it always appeared when the redhead was hatching a plan.

"Em?"

Her friend looked up at her then, and Elizabeth could tell that she had come up with something. "Uh-huh, Elizabeth. No more second-guessing yourself – or worse, me. You're just going to accept the fact that Jason wanted you – he wanted you but somehow, he was able to stop himself. So I'll tell you what you're going to do."

Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbow for the first time during that conversation. While her instincts usually told her to flee for the border when Emily hatched a plan, something in her friend's voice told her that this one was worth considering.

"You're not going to get angry or upset over this," Emily ordered calmly, her painted lips curving into a slow, cocky smile. "It's not worth getting angry about. You know why? Because Jason Morgan is just one confused little man. And you know what you've got to do, Elizabeth – you've got to play him big-time."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed at the proposition. "I get what you're saying, Em, but what if he's one of those guys that gets turned off when a girl chases him around?"

Emily frowned. "Why would he be?"

"Well, think about all those other girls that hit on him," Elizabeth pointed out, trying to keep the irritation and jealousy out of her voice. "Not the other waitresses – they know what'll happen to them if they do – but the girls that come in here to eat. They drool and fawn over him and flirt like crazy, and he totally blows them off. Something tells me that he doesn't like it when girls do the chasing – that he likes the whole traditional men and women roles and wants to do the chasing himself."

Emily offered her a self-assured shrug and a mischievous smile. "So what? If that's the case, then we let him think _he's _doing the chasing while we play him like a violin."

The glitter in the redhead's emerald eyes had Elizabeth drawn in to her plot, and memories of high school assaulted her all over again, when she and Emily would sit and hatch plans for the guys they liked and the girls Emily had on her hit list. Some things never changed.

"I've got an idea," Emily confided smugly, leaning closer to her best friend. "And if it works out the way it should, then Jason Morgan will be crawling on his hands and knees just to get you to look twice in his direction."

"I like the sound of this," Elizabeth grinned slowly. "Tell me what's going on in that devious head of yours, lady."


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_**Later that day…**_

Emily leaned back against the bed, setting her mug of hot chocolate on the floor next to her. She and Elizabeth were seated on the carpet between her bed and dresser and fine-tuning the plan. Though Emily was totally convinced that it would work perfectly, she could tell Elizabeth still held some reservations.

Feeling slightly guilty for her rash actions earlier in the day, Emily kept her conversation with Jason to herself. She had amazed herself by actually having the nerve to storm in to the kitchen and call him on his bullsh!t; apparently, Johnny was rubbing off on her. Her husband was the assistant news editor-in-chief for the Port Charles Daily Herald, and had been a reporter before that. The many years he spent on the job had taught him a lot about how to deal with people and get the truth out of them. His hound dog attitude must have rubbed off on her; there was no other way to explain the way she had confronted Jason Morgan, a strange, grumpy man that she didn't even know.

But Elizabeth still wasn't sold on the fact that Jason wanted her but had stopped himself. She still clung to the idea that she had turned him off by being too forward and aggressive, and that he didn't feel anything for her besides momentary lust, and even that was experienced only due to the heat of the moment.

"Em, it's a good plan, really, but it won't do any good if he's just not receptive to it," Elizabeth pointed out sullenly.

"Damn it, will you quit saying that?" Emily cried, exasperated by her friend's lack of self-confidence. "Elizabeth, you're a beautiful person and _trust me _when I say that Jason Morgan looked as if he could not control himself around you."

"Yeah. And he probably thought I was a complete whore."

Emily's eyes narrowed when Elizabeth slunk down against the wooden backboard of the bed, her painted toenails scraping the thin carpet. She hated it when her best friend beat herself up like this, especially since nothing could have possibly been further from the truth.

"And you know something?" Elizabeth's soft voice, laced with embarrassment and self-loathing, broke through her best friend's thoughts. "I was."

"OK, hold it right there," Emily cut in, spinning around on her bottom to face Elizabeth and direct a stern glare straight at her. "Just stop. Because that's total bullsh!t, Elizabeth Webber, and we both know it."

Elizabeth scowled at her. "Why? Why is it total bullsh!t, Em? For Christ's sake, I was ready for Jason to take me upstairs right then – in fact, I **_asked_**him to. If that doesn't make me a whore of…of…Carly Corinthos standards, then I don't know what does."

"First, don't even say Carly's name and your own in the same breath," Emily ordered, wagging a finger at her best friend. "You are **_nothing_** like that woman – Elizabeth, she's herpes on heels! How can you possibly compare yourself to **_her_**, of all people?"

Elizabeth's blue eyes flashed. "Maybe because I was so completely desperate for him to touch me that I wanted him to take me upstairs to bed at that very instant, Em," she hissed back, not even bothering to sweep her brown locks back as they slipped from behind her ear and got stuck in her lip balm. "I was ready to…to…"

"To go all the way with him," Emily finished. "Elizabeth, I know. And doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yes – that I'm a total whore."

Emily rolled her eyes with exasperation over her friend's behavior and resisted the urge to scream. "Liz, stop saying that. Enough. You are not a whore – if either of us is a whore, it's definitely me miles before you. You're a virgin, for crying out loud!"

Elizabeth's dark blue eyes sizzled before the fire was dimmed by the onslaught of tears. "And I was ready to give it up like **_that_**, Em," she sighed, snapping her fingers to punctuate the sentence. She banged the back of her head against the wood they were leaning on. "I didn't even think twice. OK, yeah, twice, but not thrice. Damn it."

Emily's shoulders slumped at the sadness in Elizabeth's voice. She hated when the brunette got like this. "Elizabeth, try to go two seconds without beating yourself up and just listen to me, okay?"

Her best friend didn't say anything, just slumped against the wooden backboard of her bed and glared at a random spot on her dresser.

"Elizabeth." Emily licked her lips, trying to choose her words carefully. The self-deprecating brunette in front of her had a habit of being very stubborn sometimes, and she had to make sure Elizabeth listened to her completely before trying to get a word in edgewise. "Yes, you're a virgin. And in my opinion, that makes you really special."

The brunette snorted but thankfully didn't say anything, and Emily was able to continue.

"It means that you have more…what's the word?...self-discipline and control and maybe even moral integrity than the rest of us sluts that started doing it in high school."

Her attempt at humor barely even kicked up the corner of Elizabeth's mouth.

"Don't you see, Liz?" Emily's voice was pleading as she leaned closer to her best fried. "You decided to wait for that right guy. Sure, you dated Sean on and off throughout high school and then Barry during college, but you made them wait. And in the end when it didn't work out, they didn't have that special part of you. They didn't have that special place in your mind and your heart as the first, you know? You decided to wait until something better came along, Elizabeth. I know that you'd know when the guy was **_it_**."

Elizabeth sighed deeply and crossed one leg over the other knee, picking at the loose fuzz on her white socks. "And I was going at it with Morgan like I had all the experience in the world." A horrible thought dawned on her just then, causing her to snap up into sitting position. "Oh, God. What would he have done if he had found out that I was a virgin while we were…? Damn it!"

"Woah, woah," Emily broke in, waving a hand in the air. "No, no, no, don't even go there. Just shut up and listen to me." Reluctantly, Elizabeth leaned back against the backboard once more and crossed her arms sullenly over her chest. "Yes, you were ready to go for it with Jason. Now, doesn't that tell you something right there? Yes, yes, it does," she added without even letting Elizabeth speak up for herself. "And I'll tell you why. There's something about Jason Morgan that appeals to you way beyond his body; there's something there that's about more than just lust."

"I'm not saying you're in love with him or he's The One or anything fairy-tale-ish like that," Emily clarified when Elizabeth shot her a withering look that begged the question, **_Have you completely lost your mind?_** "I'm just saying that if that moment made you consider actually losing your virginity to him – yes, I know you're going to say it was in the heat of the moment, but Liz, just listen to me – then it's because there's something more to it. There's something there that's worth exploring and even fighting for. But you have to be honest with me, Lizbits. Were you actually going to go through with it?"

Elizabeth swallowed past a lump in her throat. "I'm pretty sure I was."

"There!" Emily raised her hands in triumph. "See? Doesn't that convince you? Because it sure as hell convinces me. There's something there, Liz. He's more than just a cute coworker, even if you don't know what exactly he **_is_** yet. You'll find out; I'm telling you, we just have to follow through with the plan. That man won't know what hit him."

Elizabeth brought her hands up and buried her face in them. "Fine," came her muffled voice. "You can spin this any way you want, Em, but it still doesn't cloud the fact that he pulled away and said it was a mistake; he doesn't want me. And no matter how great this plan goes, it's not going to do anything if he doesn't-"

"Do you want to know why he pulled away?"

Emily's question was met with dead silence, and the redhead's eyes were solemn when Elizabeth snapped up to look at her. Emily took in the skepticism in her friend's dark eyes but her own revealed nothing, good or bad, to partially answer Elizabeth's silent question.

"You know?"

Emily shrugged, a movement of her shoulders so slight that Elizabeth almost didn't catch it. "I wasn't going to say anything because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, but that's just seems stupid now. Especially since it's just what you need to hear to get off your butt and go along with this."

"Woah, woah, woah," Elizabeth shook her head, clearly not about to be deterred from her original question. "How do you know?"

Emily ducked her head and when she peeked back up, the hope of forgiveness that shined through her green eyes made Elizabeth want to crawl into a hole and die.

"What did you do, Em?"

The redhead traced a square in the carpet with one dainty finger. "I, um, kinda barged into the kitchen and asked him what crawled up his ass."

Elizabeth's eyes bulged and the brunette fairly crumpled onto the carpet, pounding the floor with one fist. "You didn't," came her distorted voice, muffled by the thin carpet she was currently resting her head on. "Oh, please, Em, tell me you didn't."

Emily shrugged with guilt. "Well…"

Two dark blue eyes, glittering with suspicion and accusation, shot up to meet hers. "What did you say?"

"I kinda stormed in there and yelled at him to tell me why he hurt you," Emily admitted. She hurried on when Elizabeth closed her eyes and grimaced. "If it makes it any better, I didn't make it sound like you were completely devastated or anything – I just…made him sound like a total ass for walking away from you."

"What. Did. You. Say?"

"I said that if he was frustrated with me for walking in, he had no right to take it out on you," Emily confessed softly. "And that he must be a real egotistical jerk to walk away from you like that. And I might have also said that a man couldn't do any better than you."

"Oh, great," Elizabeth hissed, pounding a fist into the carpet once more. "That's just freaking great."

"But," Emily spoke up, trying to make up for the disappointment she caused with some good news. "I did get a reason out of him."

Elizabeth looked up at her again and this time Emily found curiosity welling up in those sapphire orbs. "And what did he say?"

The redhead sighed and crossed her legs, forming her words slowly and carefully as if she were sampling gourmet pastry. "He said that…in a nutshell, that you deserve better than a nobody like him."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "He said **_that_**?" She couldn't believe it; Jason had always seemed so rugged and self-assured to her; what was wrong with him? What was he talking about? Had the entire world lost its mind?

Emily nodded seriously. "Apparently, he's got a total inferiority complex going when it comes to you. Remember when I told him that a man couldn't do much better than you?"

The look in Elizabeth's eyes answered the question as the brunette nibbled on her lower lip. Based on her newfound information, she realized that Emily's choice statement couldn't have been too comforting to Jason. It probably just rubbed more salt into the wound by telling him that all sorts of guys were after her, most better than him. She just couldn't shake her astonishment at the fact that Jason actually felt that way. And here she was worrying that **_she_** didn't match up to **_him_**

"Well, he said something under his breath and I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear, but I've got good ears. He said that I should tell him something he didn't know, meaning-"

"That he thinks I'm above him somehow," Elizabeth finished. Yeah, she had already arrived at that conviction herself and didn't need any more persuasion from Emily. "But what I can't figure out is – why? Why would he feel that way?"

Emily shrugged. "Well, we know he's a mechanic, right? And that he's working at his aunt's diner because of the fire. That's probably it – maybe he's kinda ashamed of what he does."

Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. Jason doesn't seem to be ashamed of anything. I don't think he's the type that would care what other people thought about his line of work."

Her friend's lower lip puckered out as she thought. "Well, maybe it's not direct shame, but something similar," she suggested. "Maybe he's got it in his head that the only guys that have a chance with you are the lawyers and the accountants and all that riffraff." Her eyes glittered and her cocky smile returned once more. "And that is where the plan is going to show him just how wrong he is."

_**Two days later…**_

The diner was actually empty in the morning and the two other waitresses that were scheduled to work were done with their muffins and other jobs and now sat at the counter, busily completing some homework for an evening class. The lack of anything to do meant that for the first time in a long time, Jason was able to take it easy and actually sit for a cup of coffee with his aunt, Bobbie Cassidine. The older woman had been busy at the hospital for the last few days, but finally had the free time to catch up with her favorite – though only – nephew.

And now she sat across from him, sipping her cinnamon tea as he nursed his black coffee – no sugar, no milk, just the way he liked it. It was a cold morning and she was buried inside a bright red sweater, and yet still complaining of the chill in the air.

"I hate this time of the year," she griped. "The dead of winter. Really makes my rheumatism act up."

Jason nodded sympathetically, knowing that her aunt's sour mood had little to do with her bodily ailments and more to do with the fact that her husband, a Greek businessman by the name of Stefan, was away doing some work in Greece and wouldn't return for another week.

"Plus, it makes my skin so dry," she continued, running a finger down one pale cheek. "No matter how much cold cream I put on – look at this! My skin dries up in no time. I don't know how you do it, Jason."

He blinked at her. "Do what, Aunt Bobbie?"

She allowed him a half-smile. "Spend the entire winter outside. And on that metal death trap of yours, no less."

Jason laughed at that. His aunt never did like the fact that he had a motorcycle. He could understand where she came from; she was the one that treated numerous motorcycle-related injuries every year and didn't want her nephew to be one of them. "It's really not that bad."

Bobbie smiled over the rim of her mug. "But you haven't been out on your bike very much recently."

Jason sucked in a deep breath, swirling the last of his coffee at the bottom of the cup. "No, no, I haven't."

"Any reason?"

"I've been busy. And tired. When I get home, I don't want to do anything but go straight to bed."

Bobbie nodded sympathetically. "I know, sweetheart. You work so hard here." She saw her nephew glance away in embarrassment, knowing what was coming, and she didn't disappoint him. "Jason, I wish you'd let me and Stefan help you with the garage. Really, honey, it's the least-"

Jason cut her off with a quick shake of his head. "We've been over this before, Aunt Bobbie – I don't want any money from you or Stefan."

The older woman opened her mouth to protest but once again, Jason silenced her with a single look. "I know you want to help, but I wouldn't be happy with myself if I sat back and let Stefan rebuild it for me. I have to do this by myself – I **_will_** do this by myself."

Bobbie sighed and set down her black porcelain tea cup. "Jason, it's not that I don't believe you can do it – you know that's not the case. Sweetheart, I think you are one of the most hardworking, dedicated and determined people I know." Jason blushed, always uncomfortable with praise, most of which he felt was either unnecessary or undeserved. "But you've done so much already, Jason, and you're so young. There's nothing wrong with letting family help out-"

"I know," he answered softly. "And I know you're not doing it out of a sense of obligation or pity. I know that. But that doesn't change anything. That garage is going to be back up one way or another. And I choose the way that has me working hard by **_myself_** to get it that way. I started that place, Aunt Bobbie," he shrugged as he gulped down the last of his coffee. "It's mine – no one else's. And I'm the one that is going to get it running again."

A customer came in just then and Jason started to get up but then realized that it was one of their regulars, a working mom who only stopped in for coffee and a turnover, both of which were already on the counter. He waited to make sure that April was serving their patron before sitting slowly back down in front of his aunt, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips.

"This time, though, I'll be sure to get everything insured."

Bobbie looked solemnly back at him for a moment, then swept her tea cup to the side and leaned closer to him, lowering her voice. "Jason, I don't really want to suggest this because I know you could easily wind up with more than what you bargained for, but if you won't accept any help from me or your uncle, then…"

Jason sighed. "Aunt Bobbie-"

"Maybe you could get it from Lorenzo Alcazar," she hurried on, knowing what the look in his eyes meant. Her nephew rolled those cerulean orbs and planted a hand on the table, but Bobbie had already decided that she was going to have her say. Even if this particular argument never really seemed to go anywhere. "Jason, he owes you that favor for when you took his mechanic's place last year. You didn't have to do it, but you did because he was desperate, and he said that you could call on him for a favor when you needed it."

"Look, Aunt-"

"Why not, Jason?" she insisted, her green eyes wide and begging him to consider. "It's a straight shot – he could easily rebuild your entire garage without even putting a dent in the pocket money he gets from his father. Why not ask him to repay the favor?"

"Aunt Bobbie." Jason's voice was firm but respectful and Bobbie snapped her mouth shut. "I probably will call in that favor eventually, but it won't be to rebuild my garage. I won't go to Lorenzo for the same reason that I won't take money from you. This is **_my_** place – no one is going to fix it up except me. I don't care if I have to work here for the next year; I will get the money together and do it on my terms. I'm not going to take the easy way out and call in what's owed to me." His blue eyes glittered as he leaned back in his wooden seat. "But when I do call Lorenzo up, it's going to be for something important. Maybe even something more important to me than the garage; I don't know, we'll just have to wait and see. I'm not going to ask him to do something for me that is easily within my own reach."

Bobbie pouted but didn't say anything; her nephew, stubborn as he was, had made his point very clear and she didn't want to risk alienating him even a little by pushing him. Jason didn't respond very well to being pushed. "OK, sweetheart, okay. But can I ask you to consider something else?"

Bobbie's green eyes twinkled when Jason playfully groaned and leaned back in his seat. "What?"

"Honey, I want you to move into Kelly's." Bobbie's request was met with silence. "There's no need for you to keep paying rent at Jake's when there's always going to be a room for you here. I've told you a hundred times and you just haven't listened; I'm hoping you'll listen now."

Jason's sigh swept through the near-empty diner. At the counter, April and Jane were finishing up their first-level Calculus and thanking their lucky stars that it was a slow morning. The mornings this time of the year usually were – who wanted to come all the way to Kelly's for breakfast when there was a layer of cold snow and slippery ice on the ground? No one in their right mind, that was for sure.

Bobbie watched Jason anxiously as the young man searched for words. Maybe this was the day that Jason would say yes – maybe he'd really move in and out of that ratty little bar.

"Aunt Bobbie, I like it at Jake's," Jason finally said. But his aunt immediately realized that his voice lacked its previous conviction. "The rent's not that much and I can easily afford it. Besides, I don't-"

"Want to free load, yeah, I've heard this before," Bobbie replied dryly. "Fine, Jason. I know you look at everything in terms of transactions and not in terms of emotions. Fine. I can understand that. But just this once, look at it this way: sweetheart, I **_want_** you to live here." Her bright eyes shined with concern and compassion. "Oh, Jason, I never come down to Jake's. To be honest, that place scares me. And the only times I get to see is when I come down here, and you're always busy. If you lived upstairs, I'd be able to see you more regularly. And I'd like that."

Jason sighed when her hand closed over his on the table. He knew she was just looking out for him, and to be honest, he wouldn't be completely averse to the idea of moving in upstairs. There were a lot of pluses that came with the territory.

"I just don't want us to drift apart," Bobbie murmured, squeezing his hand gently. "Jason, you're the only family I have in New York, and I love you so much. I couldn't stand to lose you."

Jason smirked at her. "You're not losing me just because I'm living a few miles away, Aunt Bobbie."

Bobbie chuckled, releasing his hand. "I know. And don't think that I want you to move in so that I can keep a closer eye on you." Her eyes twinkled when Jason laughed. "I know you're a big boy. It's just that…I want you close by. I like it when you're close by. Jason, you might not even realize it, but I look forward to every minute we spend together."

When Jason looked into her eyes, he was unable to doubt the sincerity behind his aunt's words. "Plus," Bobbie continued, still trying to make her pitch. "Just think about how much easier it would be. You wouldn't have to go out into the cold every morning and drive to work here anymore – you could just change into your jeans and walk down the stairs."

Jason did his best to contain a small smile. That was a definite plus.

"Also, you're always complaining about how tired you are," Bobbie offered. "And it's no wonder – Jake's doesn't close til late at night, and the music is always blaring. Here at Kelly's, it's nice and quiet at night and you don't have to worry about bar fights or loud music or dancing or anything like that."

"And," she continued, getting more and more caught up with her list. "You never have to leave to get some hot food – everything you could possibly need is right here."

Jason opened his mouth to say something but his aunt plowed right on.

"And your neighbors will be nice," she beamed. "No drunks or whores or whatever the type that they let into that dismal little bar." She shuddered at the mere thought of it. "No – there's mostly girls up there, and this one college boy that writes for the paper. Let's see, you'll have Penny, Renee, Jen, Lisa, Seth and Elizabeth as neighbors. And those girls are wonderful, Jason – they won't bother you at all."

Whereas he had been ready to say that he might be willing to listen to her this once, the last name out of his aunt's mind dampened that spirit. Even though Elizabeth seemed to spend most of her nights at her little art studio, she **_did_** technically live upstairs. And Jason wasn't sure if being in such close proximity with her so soon after their…encounter would be wise.

Two more customers walked in, a man and a woman, and since they looked like they were here for a hot breakfast, Jason finally rose from his seat. As he picked up his coffee mug and his aunt's tea cup, he didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

"How about if I say that I'll sleep on it?" he offered as he backed away, heading for the kitchen.

His aunt's smile was immediate. "I'd say that would be great."

"OK, then." Smirking, Jason let himself into the kitchen and grabbed an apron from the little wooden closet next to the cabinets. The couple had ordered scrambled eggs and bacon and before long Jason was done with the order. He was about to call for April when the double doors flew open and a petite brunette strolled in and made her way to the apron closet.

Jason's breath caught in his chest and his brain temporarily froze when Elizabeth pulled out her small green apron and tied it on, turning around to face him. Her eyes, though showing some surprise, didn't display any malice or resentment.

"Jason," she said slowly with a hesitant, polite if not uncomfortable smile. "Hey. Mornin'. Um, can I talk to you for just a second?"


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

He stared at her as if she had grown three heads. Talk? She wanted to talk? Two days ago, that was the last thing on her mind. After that conversation in the snow, she had done nothing but try to escape him, not that he minded or blamed her because he had been guilty of doing the same. And yet here she was, standing before him and shifting her weight from one foot to the other in that cute little way of hers, her eyes wide and hesitant, wanting to _talk_.

"Yeah, sure." His voice sounded strange, even to him, and Jason cleared his throat before daring to let another word escape at the risk of letting her see that he wasn't as calm and unaffected as he'd like her to think. "What do you need?"

She hesitated, tipping her head to the side as she thought. Without a word, she gently placed her warm hand in the crook of his elbow and pulled him toward the center of the kitchen, away from the door and any nosey intruders or eavesdroppers. Jason's skin tingled, shooting currents of electricity up and down her arm as she walked him back.

His eyes darkened when she let him go and pulled herself up onto the countertop by the stove. She had been sitting there before, their last shift working together, when he had been unable to keep his hands off of her. And now there she was, in that same damn spot, looking innocent and sweet in that same damn sexy way, and he was beginning to feel like all the forces of the universe had gotten together to royally screw him over.

Her right leg was crossed over her left, and one small sneakered foot was swaying gently to whatever song some customer out there was playing. His gaze traveled up from her pink Puma slippers to her slender thighs; she wasn't wearing a skirt today. Instead, she had on what looked like jogging pants. They were black and stretchy with a little drawstring at the top. It peeked out from under her white zipped hoodie, the kind with the single pocket sewn onto the stomach. She had tied the drawstring into a cute little bow. Damn it.

Jason leaned a jean-clad hip against the counter, a pace away from where she sat. Distance was key if he didn't want to end up mauling her in the kitchen again. "So, um, what do you want to talk to me about?"

_Damn it. Please don't let it be-_

"About what happened two days ago.

_Damn it_. "Um, okay."

She sighed and picked at her nails, and Jason breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that she would be doing most of the talking. It was probably better that way. If they absolutely _had_ to talk about it, then he wanted to say as little as possible.

"I just wanted to let you know that…you were right."

Jason blinked at her, trying to figure out if he had really heard what he thought he heard. "What?"

"About what happened two days ago," she clarified, lifting her dazzling blue eyes to his. "You were right when you said it was a mistake."

She had just agreed with him, and yet Jason still felt like he had been sucker-punched. But his abuse was far from over as Elizabeth freed her bottom lip from its prison between her teeth and continued.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Jason, and I completely agree with you. It was a rash, stupid thing to do and we both definitely would have regretted it. I mean, me and you?" She shook her head and he did his best not to wince. "It wouldn't have worked and we both would have been miserable."

Even though that had been his original view, Jason found himself bristling under the oppressive nature of her words. It was fine when he said it, but the same words coming from her mouth sounded so…condemning. Flippant. Snobby.

"It was crazy," she continued, oblivious to the turmoil of Jason's emotional state. "It was spur of the moment – what did you say, heat of the moment? – and it was insane. We barely even know each other, anyway! I mean, well, yeah, we do; we've been working together for a couple of months now, but I mean, I'd like to know more about a guy than the fact that he can make really good pancakes and that he hates Broadway musicals and that he is apparently the only one here that can figure out how to trap a mouse, and that's not something that you can build a serious relationship on which is just plain funny because I'm not even _looking _for a serious relationship-"

She was rambling. And Jason hated that he thought it was cute.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that you were right and I feel like a fool." Her eyes, gazing up at him, were wide and regretful. "I'm sorry."

"Woah, hold on." It was the first thing he had said through her entire tirade and once again, Jason hated the way his voice sounded. He took a minute to himself before daring to open his mouth. "You have nothing to apologize for. It was me – I'm the one that should be apologizing."

"You?" Even as she consciously tried to flood her eyes with baffled confusion, Elizabeth couldn't help but think that she needed an Oscar for this performance of hers. "What do you need to apologize for?"

"I…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck hard with one hand. He hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, and as usual, his back was paying for it. "I was the one that started it and I was the one that ended it. It was all my fault, and _I'm_ sorry, Elizabeth."

His heart clenched in his throat when she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth, her gaze traveling lower and lower to her feet. "I didn't…I didn't mean to go off on you the way I did outside," he continued, hoping that he had what it took to carry through to the end of this discussion. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Damn it. He wanted to put his fist through something when tears lined her long lashes. Quick as a flash, Elizabeth blinked them away. "Hey, it was a good thing that you did. I needed it."

"No, no," he sighed, edging closer and placing his palms flat on the counter on either side of her. This time, he'd just have to make sure that his hands _stayed_ there. "There's no excuse. I hurt your feelings and I didn't mean to."

She nodded although he knew she was unconvinced and looked away. Jason's sigh was heavy in the quiet kitchen. "Elizabeth, I know that I haven't been too easy to get along with since I started here."

Her sapphire eyes snapped up to meet his at the sound of Jason's quiet voice. "Jason, you've been-"

"A terror," he finished with a small, humorless smirk. "It's okay. I know that I've been kind of gruff and grouchy, but believe me, Elizabeth, when I say that it had nothing to do with you." He pursed his lips together as he debated how much to tell her. "You know that I lost my garage a while back." She nodded, still worrying her bottom lip. He wanted to pull it free but managed to restrain himself. "I didn't have anything insured and since I wanted a job right away to save for a new garage, I started working here. I didn't want to, but I didn't see any other option. So if I was rude or terse, it wasn't because of something you did – it was because I was just-"

"Bummed at having to work here," she finished for him. "Jason, it's okay. I understand. You're entitled to the way you feel. And I'm a big girl, you know." She was looking straight at him but somehow missed the way his eyes darkened. "Sticks and stones don't break _my _bones."

"That's no excuse," Jason repeated stubbornly. "I wasn't very polite and I regret it, just like I regret hurting your feelings. Elizabeth…" It was hard for him to say; Jason Morgan didn't exactly express his feelings very well, but if it meant smoothing things over with the brunette in front of him, he'd do it. "I know you might not believe me, but you _don't_ annoy me."

He found her smirk alarmingly cute. "Woah. I'll alert the media."

"You don't, Elizabeth," he persisted. "In fact, I li-" Jason had to pause for a minute as Elizabeth's slender brows rose in a silent question. "I like you."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You- You do?"

If the doubt in her voice hurt him, Jason didn't show it. Instead, he just nodded firmly. "Yeah. I do. I think you're a really nice person, and I give you a lot of credit for always being so cheerful and nice to everyone despite whatever's going on in your life."

Her lips pulled to the side in a sweet smile. "I thought you hated my – what's the word you used? – hysterics."

"I don't," he offered immediately. "I like that you're always the same with people, that you don't take out your personal life on others, that you don't let your feelings take over or shove them away completely. Elizabeth, I like working with you. I like getting to know you. And that's why I'm sorry I hurt you."

She waved a hand dismissively at him, trying to contain an embarrassed smile. "It's okay; I needed a wake-up call. I mean, seriously, what was I thinking?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth looked pointedly up at him, straight into those piercing blue eyes that still had the uncanny ability to make her heart flutter and her pulse fly. "Jason, we _work _together."

Jason was frowning. "I know."

"So?" She raised her hands in the air to punctuate her question when she saw that he still didn't connect the dots. "Jason, nothing could be worse than if the two of us hooked up while we were working here together."

_Does she mean that if I want to get with her, one of us has to quit?_ Jason wondered to himself. "Um, okay."

She sighed. "Look, what I mean is that it would be totally awkward. We'd never get any work done, we'd piss off everyone else, and if it didn't work out anyway we'd be totally uncomfortable around each other and that would be terrible, too." Her big blue eyes implored him to see the situation her way. "Don't you think so?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded immediately. "Sure." Slower this time. "Uh, sure."

"So anyway," she continued, switching her crossed legs and leaning back on her hands. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It was crazy and it won't happen again."

"Agreed," Jason nodded, though his voice lacked the conviction hers did.

"There," she smiled happily up at him. "Don't you feel better? Now we can get back to our normal, everyday banter – I'll be adorable, you'll be grumpy."

"Oh, great," he drawled sarcastically, leaning forward on the counter toward her before realizing what he was doing.

"See, we're at it already," Elizabeth noted proudly. "Excellent."

"If you say so," Jason shrugged, containing a ghost of a smirk. "Anything else you wanted to get off your chest, Webber?" Damn. He shouldn't have mentioned anything remotely pertaining to her chest – because now it took everything in him to keep his eyes glued to her face. And he still failed.

He wondered offhandedly if she was wearing a bra today.

"Actually, yes," she replied, surprising him. "One more thing."

"Shoot."

"OK." She licked her lips, pretending to carefully ponder her words as if she hadn't rehearsed this in her head five times that morning. "I know things were a little weird between us for a while what with…what with what happened two days ago-"

Jason watched in fascination as a rosy blush stole across her cheeks and neck. Once again, he found himself wondering something he had no business even thinking about – whether or not she blushed that pretty _everywhere_.

"But I want…I want us to be friends, Jason."

He frowned at her. "I thought we _were_ friends."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, fine, but I'm not talking about the "Hey, how you doing?" friends. I'm talking about being real _friends_."

"Oh," he answered, not understanding what she meant at all. "Um, what does that mean?"

She smiled at him and he was drawn in by the engaging way her eyes twinkled. Sometimes he swore that the girl just _glowed_. "You said you like me, right?"

He swallowed thickly. "Yeah."

One small hand found its way to his chest as she lightly smacked him, an action that, though innocent enough, sucked the breath out of him. "_That's_ what I'm talking about, Jason. Look, you like me and I like you – why not be friends?"

"But I thought we _were_ friends," he repeated, still having no idea what in the world she was talking about.

"Fine," she allowed, turning her cute little nose in the air. "Then let's be _better_ friends."

"Better friends?" he asked, still thoroughly confused. "As in, more than friends?"

"Jason!" she exclaimed, dropping both hands on his shoulders and giving him a quick little shake. "Haven't you been listening to anything I said?"

"Yes," he replied somewhat defensively. "I listen."

"OK," she sighed. "I'm not talking about being _more than friends_. I'm just talking about being _better_ friends. Do you get the difference?" He didn't say anything, just raised a wheat-colored eyebrow at her. "Like…ugh! Jason, come on! Work with me here!"

Laughter rumbled through his chest when she bent and let her forehead fall on his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped up around her waist to pull her back so he could look at her better. "Ok, ok, go on. Tell me what you want."

"I want to be able to talk to you," she replied with painful honesty.

Jason waited for her to continue – women always continued – but only silence met his ears. "That's it?"

"Yes, that's it!" she exclaimed in exasperation. "I just want to walk into work and see you at the counter and have a meaningful conversation with you. I just want to talk, to get to know you, to hang out with you – to be your friend."

He pulled back, his head cocked to the side as he studied her and mulled over her words. "I could live with that," he replied finally.

Her eyes lit up, and Jason felt a primitive happiness surge through him when he reflected that _he_ was the one responsible for that. "Really?"

Jason nodded. "Sure. Let's be friends."

"Yay!" she exclaimed in that cute little way she did when she was excited. The heels of her Puma's met the wooden floor cupboards with a soft _thud_ as she threw her arms around his neck for a quick hug. Jason, who had not been expecting the sweet gesture, closed his eyes when her soft scent of vanilla and roses wrapped around him like a blanket. "Good, I'm so glad."

She hopped off the counter and wiggled out past him, flashing him a dazzling grin as she tied her apron on and moved for the door. Jason just watched her go, a strange sort of feeling he could only vaguely classify as some type of happiness kicking up the corner of his mouth.

"Not trying to sound trite here," Elizabeth grinned as she tied her apron behind her in that same cute little bow that she had her drawstring. "But I have a feeling this is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship."

She giggled when Jason rolled his eyes and stepped out before he could whip off another sarcastic gem. Emily caught her gaze as soon as she hit the counter, and Elizabeth could instantly read the hope and anticipation in her best friend's eyes. Picking up the coffee pot, Elizabeth danced lightly on her toes over to one of the couples seated at a corner table, flashing the redhead a satisfied and arrogant grin.

The first part of Phase One had been a resounding success.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Emily waited until things had calmed down a bit before pulling Elizabeth aside. The morning rush had passed and Jason was apparently fixing himself breakfast in the kitchen, so she figured that she had at least a few minutes of alone time with her best friend before she had to run home and spend a couple hours staring at a computer screen, trying to write her humor column.

"So?" she hissed as Elizabeth skittered across the floor in her sneakers, almost losing her balance but managing to gracefully slide down into the chair next to the one Emily had hung her coat on. The redhead wasted no words as Elizabeth glanced nervously toward the kitchen, making sure that Jason wasn't around. "What happened? How'd it go?"

"Worked like a charm," Elizabeth drawled as she offered her a Cheshire cat grin. "He fell for it hook, line and sinker."

Emily rubbed her hands together, looking more like a wickedly gleeful child than the young married woman she was. "Excellent. But I need details. What did you say?"

"The same thing we decided," Elizabeth replied. "That he was right and that it would have been a mistake. I also threw in a little song and dance about how I wasn't looking for anything serious right now."

"Ooh," Emily whistled, nodding her head appreciatively at her best friend. "Nice touch, my friend. Good one – that had to hurt."

"You should have seen his face at times, Em," Elizabeth crowed, doing her best to keep her volume and satisfaction in check. "He looked like I had punched him in the stomach or something."

"See? See?" Emily could barely contain her excitement. "There he goes again – **_proving_** to you, babe, that he wants you. Oh, this is going to be mah-velous, darling. I can feel it in my old bones."

Elizabeth snickered. "Yeah, well, I hope you're right. But I figure the rest of it will be smooth sailing compared to this. I mean, I've already jumped over the biggest hurdle by talking to him about it. And that is something that I don't intend to revisit, believe you me."

"Aw," Emily clucked, patting her friend's arm. "You're so cute when you're an emotionally stunted prude." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and the redhead continued seriously. "But anyway, what are you thinking for the next phase?"

"Well, he knew from the beginning that I'm really, like…loud. And that I have the rare ability to talk to a fence post," Elizabeth remarked. "I told him I wanted to be friends and he agreed, so I figure I won't waste any time and just dive right in. He won't think anything's up because he knows what a blabbermouth I can be."

"So you'll go right to the talking and the bonding," Emily mused, nodding her head approvingly. "Good. I like it. The sooner we get on to that, the sooner we can get on to the seduction."

Elizabeth blushed fiercely and dipped her head. "**_Emily_**, please – I wish you wouldn't call it a seduction."

"Well, that's what it is," Emily pointed out with a sly smile. "You're going to seduce him, you little vixen."

"No, I'm not," Elizabeth replied witheringly. "I'm just going to make him pay for getting me all excited and then walking away. Bastard."

"That's what I like to hear," Emily grinned. "So, you think you'll be able to pull it off?"

Elizabeth nodded confidently. "Oh, yeah. No sweat. I'm going to get under his skin like no one ever has, and then I'm going to pull his strings like he was Pinocchio."

"That's my girl," Emily beamed, rising from her chair and giving her friend a quick hug before reaching for her coat. "Well, I've gotta run home and pretend to do some work before my editor calls me up and reams my ass, but call me, okay? We'll go over strategy."

"Em," Elizabeth chuckled, rolling her deep blue eyes. "I don't need you to tell me how to…"

"Seduce Jason?" Emily supplied helpfully. "I know. But you know that I can't keep my mouth shut on the subject, so you might as well let me."

"Oh, I meant to ask you," Elizabeth interrupted as Emily reached for her purse. "Did you talk to Johnny yet? Did he agree to help?"

"Not yet," Emily replied slowly, pulling her dark auburn hair out of her coat collar. "But don't worry," she added at Elizabeth's panic-stricken expression. "I know what to do to get him to help. Or, actually, what _not_ to do."

Elizabeth couldn't contain her grin. "Poor man."

"Nah," Emily disagreed playfully. "He's used to it and doesn't put up a fight. That's why I'm so spoiled."

"Ah, we hear it straight from the horse's mouth," Elizabeth crowed. "Issue a proclamation!"

"Ha, ha," Emily snipped. "I have to go, but remember to call me, okay, sweets? And good luck."

"Thanks, Em," Elizabeth grinned as her friend pulled on her gloves before pushing the door open. The bells hanging from the threshold jingled merrily and a severe gust of cold wind blew into the diner. "Jeepers creepers, go already – I'm turning into an icicle over here."

"Bye, hon," Emily called before disappearing into the frigid February morning. As soon as she left, another thought occurred to Elizabeth and the brunette nearly toppled over two chairs in her haste to get to the door. She opened it and, ignoring the cold wind that blasted her face, called out to Emily's retreating form.

"Em!"

Her best friend turned around, drawing her shoulders forward to escape the stinging wind. "What?"

Bravely, Elizabeth stepped out of the diner, the bells jingling as the door slammed behind her, and ran up a few paces closer to the redhead. "He said he liked me."

Emily's green eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yup," Elizabeth nodded proudly. "Jason Morgan said he likes me."

_Later that day…_

Things had been going well since Emily left. Elizabeth had turned the charm up to the maximum and she and Jason had been getting along famously. Penny and April were astonished to hear hearty laughter coming from the usually silent kitchen, and when they peeked in and saw the petite brunette sitting on the counter next to Jason and sharing some hot chocolate with him, they both thought they'd faint dead away.

"See?" Elizabeth asked eagerly, clinking her black mug with Jason's. "Isn't this better than coffee?"

Jason eyed the dark liquid skeptically. "I don't know," he drawled, still unsure. "It's good, but…"

"But?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. "How could there be a but? It's hot chocolate, Jason! God's gift to man! Well, specifically, menstruating women, but you get what I mean. It's rich and hot and chocolatey and you get to put marshmallows in it. If this isn't heaven, I don't know what is."

"You've got a little bit of heaven on your mouth," Jason remarked, gesturing to the same spot on his own face. Elizabeth picked up her napkin and pretended to dumbly wipe away at the wrong area.

"Did I get it?" she asked innocently as Jason did his best to contain a smile at her prominent milk-and-marshmallow mustache.

"Nope."

She tried again with the same results. "Did I get it now?"

Jason sighed and gently grasped her hand at the wrist, guiding it to the proper spot above her full lips. "There," he answered softly, tracing the outline of her lips with his piercing lips. "You got it."

"Thanks," she beamed back at him. "But I still didn't get my answer – is hot chocolate better than coffee, Morgan?"

"If I say yes, will you shut up?" Jason teased, laughing and squirming away when she reached out to smack him.

"What happened to being friends, Jason?" she teased right back. "You're certainly not being very friendly. And here I am totally making an effort – even sharing my precious hot chocolate with you…"

"OK, OK," he cut in with just the right amount of playful guilt in his voice. "How about if I tell you that I only drink two things not counting water – beer and coffee – and I think I might have to add hot chocolate to the list? Does that do anything for you?"

Elizabeth's triumphant grin seemed to light up the small kitchen. "That does a _lot_ for me," she beamed. "Any man that I'm going to hang around with has got to like hot chocolate – there's just no other way around it."

"Picky, picky," Jason snipped, gulping down the last of the hot beverage and taking her cup with his to the sink. "Your standards are pretty lofty, Webber."

"Oh, I don't know," she drawled back, kicking her pink Puma's to the beat of _Papa Loves Mambo_ from the jukebox outside. "All I ask for is a guy that likes hot chocolate, isn't a metrosexual, is good with his hands-"

Jason nearly choked on his own saliva, but one quick look at her told her that she hadn't meant the last part as thinly-veiled sexual innuendo.

"- and has a sense of humor."

"Yeah, he'd need it with you around," Jason muttered under his breath as he rinsed the mugs.

"What was that, Morgan?" Elizabeth demanded from her perch on the counter, a good-naturedly angry look on her face.

Jason just grinned in reply, and that was all the answer Elizabeth needed. She hopped off the counter and stalked toward him, her sneakers squeaking slightly on the waxed floor. Reaching the sink, she grabbed the soapy mug from his hands and pushed him out of the way with a good jab of her hips.

"You're mean. That's what you are."

"And you're pretty funny."

"You'll change your tune soon enough," she threatened, waving a small fist covered in suds at him. "They all do."

"All?" he teased. "How many legions of men before me have tangoed with Elizabeth Webber?"

He meant it as a joke – a rare joke was still a joke, damn it – but from the way she stopped rinsing the mug and looked up at him with a baffled look on her face told her she didn't receive it as such. Jason was about to clarify it and change the subject when she continued, her voice more serious now then before.

"Well, not many, actually. I dated a guy named Sean in high school my senior year, and this guy named Barry during my late freshman and sophomore year of college. Other than that, no one."

Her answer threw him for a loop. But before he could say anything more on the subject, Elizabeth had already placed the mugs in the appropriate cabinet and was walking toward the double doors. "Hey, hang tight, will you? I have to go talk to Penny about something."

With that, she danced gaily out into the diner leaving Jason alone in the kitchen with his thoughts. The older man leaned against the sink, his arms crossed as he thought about their recent conversation.

So this was what it was like to be Elizabeth Webber's friend. Oddly enough, Jason thought as he glanced at the bag of marshmallows she had left out, he liked it already.

Elizabeth was back in the kitchen after talking to Penny and April for a little while, and that was when the lunch bunch came in. All the waitresses and Jason were on their toes as usual, trying to keep up with the frantic pace of the orders. Besides serving food, the waitresses were also responsible for child care, and Jason watched in amazement as Elizabeth put an end to a food fight between two siblings and soothed a crying baby for a frazzled mother who was trying to deal with her other three children.

That woman could do it all, he mused as he busied himself in the kitchen. All he had to do was stir the damn chili – she was out there doing the real work. He knew that Elizabeth didn't plan on being a waitress for her whole life, but he had to give her credit when it was due: she was _really_ good at it. She never tripped or spilled anything, she never messed up orders, and she was never rude to the customers for no reason. While she didn't hesitate to dish it out for the jerks that came in and demanded her undivided attention for things like "Miss, I wanted crushed ice, not cubed", Elizabeth did do her best to keep her temper in check when kids made a huge mess while their inattentive parents chattered away maniacally on cell phones that were so tiny it was a miracle they were even visible to the human eye.

She was a big hit with the little kids that scored free brownies and lollipops, and the senior citizens that found in her a captive audience for their Great Depression stories. She seemed to know most of the patrons personally, and always made it a point to inquire about jobs, kids, or even grandkids. Elizabeth was always in such a good mood and such a delight to be with, and Jason found himself oddly happy that for once, he got to share in a part of that.

The lunch bunch left slowly and it was then that Penny and April's shifts ended. The two girls escaped upstairs to the confines of their bedrooms to study for an upcoming exam, leaving Jason and Elizabeth alone downstairs.

"Come on, let's rustle up some grub," Elizabeth cried, clapping her hands and practically making a beeline for the kitchen. "I'm starving."

Jason followed her wordlessly and as she scrounged around for two clean cups, he scooped out two bowls of chili and carried them over to the counter where they had shared their hot chocolate earlier.

"Jason?" Elizabeth's head poked up from behind the refrigerator door. "What do you want to drink?"

"Is there a beer in there?"

She nodded, trying to mask her happiness at the sight of not one but _two_ bowls of steaming chili at his side. He was even waiting for her to get there before starting. "Yeah." She grabbed his drink and poured herself a tall glass of milk and skipped over to where he was standing.

Jason took the beverages from her and waited until she had hopped onto the counter before handing her the milk and pulling himself up. They were quite a sight – him with his chili and beer, her with her chili and milk. Her pink Pumas dangled a good foot off the floor; his motorcycle boots were a few inches shy of the ground. And so they sat and ate their lunch, just the two of them in the empty diner. They sat at times in comfortable silence and at other times, Elizabeth felt like filling the silence with her endless chatter. Jason listened patiently as he chewed, wondering how come it had been so easy to slip so seamlessly into a "friendship" with Elizabeth Webber when he had been pawing under her skirt not forty-eight hours earlier.

But maybe he had to chalk that up to part of Elizabeth Webber's feminine mystique; he wanted to ravage her one minute, and he wanted to hear the end of her Story of the Hour the next. She was a strange kid, but he liked that about her.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Once Elizabeth's shift was over, she slipped upstairs to get one of her books and then came back down for more hot chocolate. Jason worked from open to closed every weekday because he figured that if he was stuck working at Kelly's, he'd work as much as he could so that he could get out sooner. Elizabeth apparently felt bad for him and abandoned her comfortable little spot in the nook where she was able to lie down on the pillow-covered bench to keep him company in the kitchen.

Eventually, the diner cleared as it usually did in that after-lunch-but-before dinner time stretch and Elizabeth returned to her comfy little makeshift lounge chair in the nook by the jukebox. Jason noticed a worn copy of _Pygmalion _lying half-opened on one of the pillows and asked her about it, sparking a long discussion on the intricacies and nuances of George Bernard Shaw. Elizabeth was greatly fascinated by Jason's take on the themes and symbolism in the classic novel.

Presently the dinner group came in and Elizabeth watched Jason retreat back into the kitchen. She skimmed through several pages of her book while the customers ate, unable to drag herself upstairs despite all the progress she had made that day with her stubborn co-worker. The diner closed at eight-thirty and Elizabeth helped Jason and the other girls close down. When almost everything was done, Jason told the other girls to go home; it was dark out and there was a snow storm in the forecast for the night and he wanted them to be able to get safely home before it hit. Elizabeth waved goodbye and then bent to pick up a chair and flip it over on top of the table so that the night crew could sweep and mop.

But as her hands closed around the back of the chair, she felt a warmth behind her and before she knew what was happening, Jason was leaning next to her, taking the chair from her and easily setting it on top of the table himself. She smiled unabashedly up at him for his assistance, and Elizabeth could have sworn that he had blushed. He finished the chairs and she made sure the register and doors were locked before making her way toward the staircase.

"Nite, Jason," she called as he slipped into his leather jacket and pulled on his riding gloves. No matter how low the temperatures dropped, that man just didn't get cold.

"See you tomorrow, Elizabeth," came a deep voice as Jason nodded once at her before slipping out of the diner into the dark and blustery night.

A sly smile stole across Elizabeth's full lips as she tapped the spine of _Pygmalion_ with her index finger. "Count on it, Morgan."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

_The next day…_

Elizabeth was already downstairs the next morning when Jason came into work. However, she wasn't getting ready to join him in catering to the breakfast club; instead, she was off to her regular classes at PCU. Elizabeth had to go to school for three days in a week – usually less than that because she was a second-semester senior with a bad case of senioritis. Sometimes she'd ditch her first class and trade shifts with April; Jason had noticed their tricky joint schedules but had soon decided not to waste the energy trying to figure it out. But today, Elizabeth was indeed off to school.

Maybe.

She squinted at her notebook as it lay open on one of the tables, trying to lace up her sneakers with the other hand. It wasn't working too well for her, Jason noticed. But she refused to sacrifice one task for the other, looking like a one-legged bird as she hobbled to and fro, keeping her eyes glued to her own messy cursive writing. So intent was she with her work that Jason was the one to say good morning first, which was quite a change of pace for the two of them.

They were the only two in the diner that morning; Kelly's was still closed and Jason had come about ten minutes early as usual to get things started. April could be heard running the shower upstairs, and Seth had barreled down the stairs two minutes ago on his way to the newspaper office to turn in some photographs.

All thoughts of the Plan that she and Emily had crafted had flown out of Elizabeth's head that morning; all she seemed to know was that she had a philosophy presentation to make today and had only just figured out what the subject material was. After getting things started in the kitchen and feeling slightly awkward and unusually hesitant, Jason sauntered out to join her.

"So...."

"Mmm," she mumbled, quickly glancing over Aquinas' ontological proofs for the existence of God. "What's new with you today, Morgan?"

"Nothing," he replied, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, a movement which stretched the denim snugly across his strong thighs.

She looked up at him for the first time then, and something strange inside Jason fluttered at the way her eyes crinkled in laughter.

"Of course," she grinned, tossing him a wink before returning her gaze to her notes. "How did I not see that coming?"

He allowed himself a small smile and, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on his heels, Jason found himself dragging the conversation along. "What are you doing?"

She huffed in irritation and he noticed that she had finally managed to lace up her pink sneakers. Dressed in simple jeans and an oversized PCU sweatshirt, she looked much younger than her twenty-two years. A sweep of chocolate locks, straight and shiny this morning, escaped her careless ponytail and shielded her eyes before she whisked them back. "You wouldn't believe it, Jason," she sighed with the weight of the world. Pages rustled as she flipped two or three of them, going straight on to Ockham and his views on free will. "I woke up about twenty minutes ago and remembered that I have to make this dumb presentation about the progressive view of God according to the early Christian theologians or something like that."

Jason quirked a brow at her. "Not ready?"

He watched her wilt in front of him, slumping into the wooden chair and letting her forehead fall into her hand. "No," she wailed. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Procrastinate?"

Her baby blues sparkled dangerously as she glared up at him. "You're not helping, you know."

"I had an idea."

Elizabeth let that slip and flipped back to the beginning of her notes. "Damn it. I better have this down in the next two minutes; no interruptions or distractions otherwise I'm sunk. Speaking of which, don't you have puppies to kick or something?"

His eyes widened in surprise when she waved a hand, smoothly dismissing him. A smirk curved his lips and Jason uncrossed his arms as he backed toward the kitchen. "You eaten yet?"

Her straight locks swished as she shook her head. "No time," she called as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Class starts in twenty minutes and it takes me ten to get there."

"That's plenty of time for breakfast," came Jason's deep voice from behind the double doors.

Elizabeth was already skimming through her notes for the second time, hoping and praying that double exposure would result in at least _some_ osmosis. "No, it's not. I have to get there ten minutes early to play nice with the overachieving freshman in my class and schmooze her notes."

Jason's rumbling laughter issued forth from the kitchen, bringing a smile to Elizabeth's lips. "God forbid you do the work yourself, right?"

"Now you're gettin' it," she crowed. "Lizzie Webber 101."

"Oh, is that what you call your little freak show?"

"Not helping!"

"Wasn't trying to."

Several minutes of silence followed; Elizabeth had planned to jump up right then and leave for school, but something kept her in the diner. She had scanned her notes three times and was beginning to feel a little more comfortable with the material. And after all, it wasn't like this presentation was a huge chunk of her grade or anything; the only reason they were doing it was because her professor had been sick for the past week of classes and wanted to cut down his own workload by having the students teach his class. Besides, she was talkative – there was no reason she couldn't blather on an on for ten minutes and at least portray some of the material correctly.

She had just slapped her notebook shut and was reaching for her gloves and scarf when Jason emerged from the kitchen. His motorcycle boots clicked on the floor as he walked over to her table and slid the plate in front of her.

Her questioning blue eyes lifted to his. "What's this?"

Jason quirked a brow at her, crossing his strong arms over his chest. "Those would be pancakes, Webber."

"Oh." Her lips pulled into a pout as she stared down at the two large pancakes fairly soaked in syrup that sat in her plate. He had made her breakfast. Wait – _what?_ Jason Morgan had made her breakfast?! "Uh…" Damn it, why wasn't her brain working? "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome," he replied easily, sipping his own coffee. Elizabeth glanced nervously up at him as she reached for her fork. He was making her uncomfortable, just standing there like a silent sentinel that just spontaneously decided to make her pancakes.

"Sit, Morgan."

His cerulean orbs showed surprise and he was soon stammering an excuse. "No, it's okay – I should-"

"_Sit_, Jason," she insisted, pushing out the chair in front of her with one sneakered foot. "Have breakfast with me."

She could see the uncertainty in his eyes, in his body, but an unexplainable, warm, fuzzy sort of happiness welled up inside her when he slowly and gracefully slid into the wooden chair. Jason watched her cut her pancake into pieces with her butter knife and fork, each motion quick and deliberate. While she sawed away, Elizabeth happened to glance down at her slim black watch.

"Oh, crap," she hissed, her hands moving at a more frenetic pace. "I have to split."

"Eat first," Jason ordered firmly. Elizabeth was little enough as she was – it was a wonder she hadn't already wasted away into nothing. And skipping breakfast wasn't going to help matters any.

"Geez, I'm eating, I'm eating," Elizabeth got out around a mouthful of Jason's pancakes. The older man watched in amazement as she stuffed the food into her mouth, barely stopping to taste it much less chew it. Within three minutes, the whole plate was empty and Elizabeth was wriggling into her coat.

"Thanks for breakfast, Jason!" she cried as she rammed her fingers into her gloves and raced for the door with her books tucked under her arm. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Jason nodded, understanding what she meant. On the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays that Elizabeth had classes, she usually went to her studio afterwards to do some homework or work on some art. Otherwise, she'd wind up at the gym and practice her ballet. She kept her weekends, Tuesdays and Thursdays generally free for work and fun. He didn't know how she managed, but she seemed to possess the energy of a hummingbird and was always effortlessly flitting from activity to activity.

"See ya then, Webber."

Her classes were over and Elizabeth had hightailed it back to her studio to get some work done. The presentation had gone well; her professor didn't seem to notice that she repeated the same few things over and over until she felt that enough time had elapsed. And she didn't even need to bother with that goody-two-shoes freshman. All in all, it had been a good day.

But she had some pressing work to attend to at the studio for the moment – her latest painting just refused to work. She had tried to take her mind off of it and return with increased vigor and zeal. But that wasn't working. It was supposed to be a romantic, vibrant painting – like a still from one of those glitzy, lovey-dovey Fred Astaire movies when he had the girl in his arms on the dance floor and you could pinpoint the exact beat when they fell in love. But it just wasn't working out the way she wanted; despite all the fuzzy, sentimental classic movies she had watched, she couldn't get the feeling right. The painting didn't emote forbidden love, respectful longing, restrained passion. It just looked…blah.

Fortunately, she didn't have long to dwell on the depressing state of her painting. An insistent knock on the door of her studio jarred Elizabeth from her troubled reverie and the curious brunette slowly made her way to it.

She had only pulled it open a crack when Emily hurtled into the room and dumped her coat and purse on the red couch in the corner before spinning around to face her best friend.

"We have to talk – how's the plan coming?"

"Hello to you, too," Elizabeth grinned, shutting the door with the ball of her bare foot and wiping her dirty paintbrush on a rag. "Please, come in, make yourself at home."

Emily angrily swiped her auburn locks from in front of her piercing emerald eyes. "Do you want to exchange pleasantries or bag yourself a man, Elizabeth?"

The petite brunette rolled her eyes and sauntered over to her desk where she began to arrange her paintbrushes. "I'm not bagging anyone, Em."

"Not with that attitude," her friend chirped as she casually threw herself down on the couch and began to take off her boots.

"Emily, seriously," Elizabeth sighed, turning around and pulling herself up on the metal bench she used as a desk for her brushes. "I'm not looking for love here. I just…I'd be more than happy if Jason paid some attention to me and if we dated a couple of times. I'm not in search of Prince Charming here."

"Liar," Emily teased, grinning out at her from over the mustard yellow afghan she had pulled up to her chin. "I'm telling you, just give the frog a kiss and he'll be your Prince, all right."

"Em…"

"Fine, fine," the redhead huffed. "Anyway, I came over to evaluate progress. I mean, I know there hasn't been any _real_ progress yet because we're still in the "Best Buds" phase, but still."

"No progress?" Elizabeth smirked. "You sure jump to conclusions pretty quick."

Emily stilled, studying her friend carefully with poorly restrained curiosity. "Give me a reason not to…"

"He made me breakfast today," Elizabeth grinned, swinging her bare feet off the table. The smile instantly reached her eyes and Emily couldn't help but squeal.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope!"

"Well? Don't keep me in a lurch here, Webber – what did he make you?"

"What else?" Elizabeth asked, throwing her hands in the air. "Pancakes!"

"Of course!" Emily was beside herself with giddiness. "So, how did it happen? I mean, did you hint around? Was it spontaneous? Did he join you? Oh, my God – did you _share_?"

Elizabeth laughed at the torrent of questions. "Well, I was studying really quick this morning because I remembered that I had some presentation to make in class, and to be honest, Em, I wasn't even _thinking_ about the plan." She saw the disapproval lurking behind her friend's excited green eyes but pushed on anyway. "So he comes in and says good morning and asks what I'm doing, so I tell him. And then he randomly asked me if I had eaten – I didn't even connect the dots there. So when I said I hadn't he made me breakfast and I made him sit and drink his coffee with me for all of three minutes before I ran out."

"Awesome," Emily sighed. "This is moving along quicker than I thought it would."

"What do you mean?"

The redhead drew her socked feet under the afghan and pulled herself into a warm little ball in the somewhat drafty studio. "Well, I know that you two have to get to be good friends first – or at least comfortable enough for you to pull off the "Jason, you're like a big brother to me" act and make it seem believable, you know?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"But it's moving along really well. I mean, four days ago you weren't even on speaking terms after what he did, and now he's making you breakfast? In what bizarre world does that happen?" She tossed her fiery mane over her shoulders and studied her best friend seriously. "It's looking pretty good from where I'm sitting, Liz. And it just goes to prove to you that he _does_ want something to do with you after all."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I guess…"

"Woah – there's no room for uncertainty here," Emily replied sternly. "Elizabeth, the man made you breakfast. From what you said, he hates working in that diner and being in the kitchen and yet _he made you breakfast_. He definitely wants to keep you around. But anyway, it's good. No, strike that: it's great. Now you can go on and keep it up and make him think that you're totally comfortable with him."

"What you mean is, that he doesn't affect me at all," Elizabeth clarified with a smirk.

"Of course," Emily grinned. "You'll treat him like just another one of the girls-"

"If I can manage that," the brunette groaned into her hands.

"-and then you can turn on the feminine charms," Emily continued pointedly. "And that's where that dear husband of mine comes in."

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"Kinda," Emily hedged. "I explained your predicament to him without making it too personal – I didn't tell him that it's Jason that we're trying to ambush here – and I said we might need his help in fixing you up."

"And what did he say?" Elizabeth asked nervously. Even though Johnny was a close friend of hers, he was only so by default. After all, he had married her best friend. Johnny O'Brien was a great man, that was for sure, and the two of them had always gotten along famously. But this was the first time that he was going to be involved in one of her and Emily's crazy schemes.

"He said it wouldn't be a problem," Emily replied. "But he was kind of half-asleep when I asked him. I expect it to register around six o'clock tonight, and then he's going to ask for specifics."

"Tell him," Elizabeth said decisively. "If he's going to help, then he should know all of it."

"OK," Emily nodded. "I don't think he'll mind – he'll just chalk it up to one of our wacky women plots."

"And his friends?" Elizabeth asked uneasily. The plan was to go on a casual date or two with a couple of Johnny's friends once she and Jason were in the comfortable friend zone. If there was any chance for them, Jason would get mildly jealous that she wasn't paying any attention to him and he would be the first to say something. That was how it was supposed to work. But then again, there was so much room for error, especially when other people were involved. Emily, however, didn't seem to be worried about that.

"No sweat," the redhead replied easily. "I've already got a couple in mind – they're his friends from work. He knows a really great reporter and a really sweet photographer. But you know, it occurred to me, Liz – don't freak out here – that we should go for a different type of guy."

"What type?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously. She didn't like the tone in Emily's voice, or the way she said _different type_. "What're you thinking, Em?"

"I'm thinking we should go for more of a bad boy type," Emily grinned impishly. Seeing the look of surprise on her friend's face, she quickly continued in hopes of getting as many words in as possible before Elizabeth shot it down. "I'm not talking escaped convict here – geez! I'm talking, oh…guitarist, artist, bartender types, maybe another mechanic. That way, you're not going to be flaunting a bunch of professional types in front of Jason. He'll see that the guys you're "going out with" are just like him, if not…worse. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something but another thought occurred to Emily and she quickly continued. "Plus, if he gets the impression that these guys are James-Dean-wannabes, he'll be more inclined to want you away from them. And that's where you can trap him, Liz – if he's not interested in you, then why is he all of a sudden, you know? That's what we said we'd do – we'd get you two comfy and cozy together and then you'd spring the classic "I'm looking for a guy and it's not you" routine on him. He won't take it well, I can tell you that much. I give him two fake dates at the most before he breaks and tells you what's really on his mind."

"And what if he doesn't respond to any of this, Em?" Elizabeth pointed out wearily. Sometimes, conversations with Emily made her head spin. "What if the only thing going on his head is that he sees me more as a little kid than anyone he'd be even remotely interested in?"

"Lizzie, my dear," Emily smirked, refusing to let her friend's downcast mood be contagious. "Never underestimate the fine art of seduction. You'll have him ready to split his skin in no time."

"But what if I can't-"

"You will," Emily assured her with a smile. Elizabeth watched with a frown as the redhead got up from the couch and pulled on her boots and coat. "Trust me, it never takes much to get a man excited. And Jason's not much different – except that he's wanted you for a long time now." She flipped on her wool cap and buttoned her down jacket. "I hate to have to run, Lizbits, but I'm supposed to be home working on that book of mine that I've been putting off. My editor's ready to slit my throat. But I'll call you about what Johnny says, ok? Take care, babe."

Elizabeth just stood silently by as Emily let herself out and closed the door behind her. Her painting, just begging for a few passionate emotions, stood mockingly before her as Elizabeth Webber wondered just how in the world she was supposed to _seduce_ Jason Morgan.


	8. Chapther Eight

**Chapter 08**

A week passed and Valentine's Day arrived. Elizabeth and Penny had decided long ago to decorate the diner for the special Hallmark-holiday and when Jason walked in to begin another long day at work, all the girls were dressed in their pajamas and stringing up streamers and balloons.

"Jason!" Elizabeth beamed as he walked in the door and stripped off his gloves. She was tying up pink balloons and handing them to Penny to be hung, and when she lifted her arms to hand a few to her friend, Jason got a nice peek at her toned tummy. "Morning! Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Happy Valentine's Day," the girls echoed, looking up from their work to flash him a quick smile. But Elizabeth wasn't worried – the girls knew the score, she had already made sure of it. They were all well-aware that if they so much as looked at Jason Morgan cross-eyed, there would be hell to pay.

"Yeah," he nodded, slightly confused as they all bustled around with various glittery decorations. "What's going on?"

"Jeez, Jason, what does it look like?" Elizabeth asked, pulling off equal-sized pieces of tape and sticking them on April's fingers as the girl tacked up the streamers. "We're making Kelly's Valentine-pretty."

"Ooh, the coffee should be done," Lisa announced, hopping off her stepstool and letting her twin sister Jen take over the ruffled hearts. "Everybody wants some, right?"

"Definitely," Elizabeth replied amidst a chorus of agreeing voices. "Lis? Can you do me a favor and pour Jason a cup, too? –He takes his black and with no sugar; _Why_, I don't know."

The girls giggled at him and Jason raised an eyebrow at the brunette beauty in front of him. She was dressed in blue plaid pajama bottoms that brought out her eyes and a matching blue tee-shirt that claimed that _boys are stupid, throw rocks at them!_ and her curly brown hair was tied up in two cute little pigtails. In her small hand was a thick permanent marker as she wrote goofy expressions like _Be Mine_ and _Kiss Me_ on red and pink paper hearts for the windowpanes.

"How long have you guys been doing this?"

She dotted the _i _in _Be Mine_ with a heart and handed it off to Penny. "For –what?- an hour and a half? Maybe?"

"Sounds about right," Lisa agreed, emerging from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and handing them to Jen and April. "Something like that. Do we have any more gluesticks? I want to make red snowflakes!"

"I've got one in my room – I'll go get it," April offered. "Lizbits, you wanna take over with the streamers?"

"Sure," Elizabeth chirped, setting down her marker and passing Jason's coffee to him. "You gonna start making breakfast now, Jason?"

"It can wait," he shrugged. "I got here a little earlier today than I planned. Plenty of time left."

"Great – you can help, then!" Elizabeth grinned, snagging three rolls of red, white, and pink streamers. "Let's get to it, Morgan!"

"Elizabeth, I don't think-"

"Here." She had already dropped the three rolls in his hands. "I'll pull out how much we need, and you cut where I tell you to."

It was a simple enough task, so Jason watched as she unraveled the tissue paper and once she was satisfied with the length, he snipped them free of the rolls. "I should go-"

"Can you pull out some tape?" She was making quick work of aligning the three ends and waiting for him to grab the dispenser. Once she had gotten what she wanted, Elizabeth taped the ends together and handed them to him. "Hold these."

"What are we doing?" Art had never come naturally to him, and the accident had destroyed what little competence he had in that field. Staring at the three ribbons of streamers in his hand, Jason Morgan had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"We're going to twist them," she replied, "into a chain. Just hold that there – right." He did as he was told, not catching the way the other waitresses giggled amongst themselves, and Elizabeth began to twist the streamers. "There. Hold it there, Jason." He watched as she climbed onto a small ladder they had set up and tacked the streamers to the wall with an abundance of tape.

"Elizabeth, that's dangerous-"

"Hand me some more tape, could you, Jason?" Snapping his mouth shut, he did as he was told and watched her arrange the chain in a downward arc and tape it up again. This process continued, with Elizabeth leaning farther and farther off the ladder as she lined the wall. Jason breathed a sigh of relief when the last bit of streamers left his hands and immediately moved forward to steady the ladder.

"Jesus, Elizabeth."

She ignored him. "Done!" With a proud grin, she surveyed her work, not noticing how Jason outstretched his hand in case she should tip off the ladder she was so precariously perched on.

"Yeah, yeah, great – get down from there." Frowning when she didn't listen, Jason reached up and wrapped his hands around her narrow waist. Her t-shirt had lifted and so his fingers found her warm, soft skin underneath. Ignoring the urge to prolong the moment, as enticing as it was, Jason pulled her down from the ladder despite her protests and set her safely on the floor. "You could have fallen and broken your neck, Elizabeth."

"Jeez, you sound like my mother," the brunette huffed, but her anger dissipated as soon as her eyes landed on the stack of paper hearts she had finished earlier. "Ooh, now you can help me hang these. Grab the ribbon and the tape!"

Muttering under his breath, Jason finally shrugged out of his leather jacket and snatched the supplies off the table. He thought he heard muted giggles behind him, but when he turned, the girls were all soberly involved in their own work.

"OK, I figure we can tape some to the doors and windows, and hang some from ribbons off of the lamps and stuff. That'd be cute, don't you think?" Elizabeth was walking briskly in front of him, the fuzzy cotton of her blue pajama bottoms cupping her rear like a lover, and Jason had to make a conscious effort to raise his gaze. "OK, you take those windows, Mister, and I'll handle the door."

Left standing alone by the windows in question, Jason looked down at the glittery paper hearts he held. _Be Mine. I Love You. Kiss Me. Eat Me._ His brow furrowed. _Eat me? What the hell did that mean?_ Looking over, Jason saw that Elizabeth had already tacked up two hearts to the panes on the door, and made quick work of hanging up his own, no matter how ridiculous he felt. He set down the tape on a nearby table and walked over to Elizabeth, who was standing on her toes and trying to tack a heart onto the top of the doorframe and failing miserably.

She glared at him when he leaned his shoulder casually against the frame and just watched her, smirking. "A little help here, Morgan?"

He quirked a sandy brow at her for a moment, as if debating whether to expend the energy or not, and finally pushed himself away from the door with his shoulder. Fixing the roll of tape on the back, he reached up to the spot he saw her aiming at and was about to press it on when her hands found his arm and tugged to the right.

"Not there, Jason – _here_." He made the mistake of looking down at her and was surprised to see how close she was as she directed his hand. Studying the heart and nibbling on her lower lip, she didn't even notice how he was concentrating on her and had yet to look away. Christ, if he just leaned forward an inch, he could brush his lips against hers- "Perfect. Don't you think so, Jason?"

Caught off guard when she turned to look at him with a bright smile, it was all Jason could do to nod. "Uh, yeah, great."

"Wonderful!" Spinning around on her bare heel, Elizabeth made her way back to the rest of her friends. "How's it going? Anything I can do?"

"We're almost done," April replied, cocking her head to the side as she helped Lisa finish the red and pink snowflakes. "We should be getting dressed, anyway – we open soon."

Movement in the corner of her eye caught Elizabeth's attention and she turned to see Jason retreat into the kitchen to start breakfast. _Poor guy_, she smirked to herself. He had to come in to a diner full of girls putting up all sorts of glittery pink crap. But the Valentine's fun was just beginning.

* * *

"No."

"Yes!"

"NO."

"YES!"

"Elizabeth, I'm not doing it!" Clearly agitated, Jason spun away from the stove but Elizabeth anticipated his movement and quickly raced around to face him.

"Jason-"

"There is no way in _hell_ that I'm making heart-shaped pancakes!" He tried to escape her again but she stopped his advance cold by placing two hands on his meaty biceps and pouting up at him, looking way too adorable for her own good in those bouncy pigtails and chauvinistically defiant t-shirt.

"_Please,_ Jason?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "No."

She moved closer, her eyes twinkling as her pout grew and smoothed her hands from his biceps up to his shoulders until her fingers were linked behind his neck. Jason tried his hardest not to shiver when her thumb swept through the golden hair at his nape, and failed. "For me? Please?"

The seconds ticked by and Jason didn't reply, which Elizabeth took as a yes. "Oh, thank you, Jason!" she cried, hopping up and down before pulling away and making a bee-line for the drawer by the sink. "And I found the coolest cookie cutters in the world, too – we can use them for the heart shape."

Grumbling obscenities under his breath, Jason set to work starting up the stove as he did every morning. Whereas he expected the brunette to give him instructions and then skip off to help her friends, he was surprised when she stayed and mixed up the batter for him, telling him it was the least she could do since he was being so "awesome", as she put it. Awesome or not, Jason definitely would have preferred she hadn't offered to help when she stood next to him at the stove and poured the batter into the cutter shape, standing very close to his side and making him feel a warmth originating from somewhere other than the hot stove he was standing over.

Before long, the pancakes were all done and all the girls were dressed and either behind the counter or off at school. Glancing out into the empty diner, Jason was able to make out the forms of his aunt Bobbie and Stefan outside the diner. Elizabeth noticed him fixing two plates and helped out by pouring two cups of tea for the couple. By the time his relatives were seated at a table, Jason already had their breakfast ready.

"Morning, Jason," Bobbie cooed, smiling happily up at him and Elizabeth. "The diner looks great, Elizabeth."

"Thanks," the brunette grinned, resting one elbow casually on Jason's shoulder although she had to stretch to accommodate his height. "Jason really helped us girls out, didn't ya, Jase?"

He frowned down at her, used to her teasing and not really mindful, but then again, he couldn't let _her_ know that. Stefan was smirking to himself, not quite sure what to make of the exchange and thus deciding to forge on. "Good day, Jason, my boy. How's your health? This weather can be so devastating to the immune system."

Jason crossed his arms over his chest, feeling it acutely when Elizabeth's fingers played with the folds of his shirt. "I'm good. Do you guys need anything else?"

"Oh, are these _heart-shaped_ pancakes?" Bobbie asked, looking up at him incredulously. "Jason, what an inspired idea! Stefan, look, he made us heart-shaped pancakes!"

"I see, I see," Stefan nodded appreciatively. "Quite considerate. Goodness, I almost don't want to eat them – they look so wonderfully made."

"And made with _love_, too," Elizabeth crowed, her blue eyes twinkling when Jason groaned and Bobbie laughed. "You wouldn't believe it, Bobbie – I come downstairs to the kitchen this morning, and your nephew here is pulling all the drawers in the kitchen apart. When I ask him what's going on, he tells me that he just can't find the heart cookie cutters, and damn it, he _needs_ to make special pancakes to commemorate _la dia de los enamorados_. Isn't that right, Jase-y?"

He scowled in disbelief, the expression turning into an audible groan when she tickled the shell of his ear playfully with her index finger. Laughing, Elizabeth smacked his shoulder lightly and excused herself to go get dressed, hopping up the stairs two at a time. Bobbie smiled slyly to herself as she watched her nephew glance back at Elizabeth's retreating form, almost certain that she knew what had him so interested. Next to her, Stefan was cluelessly enjoying his special pancakes.

* * *

"Em, you can come sit at the counter, you know," Elizabeth told her patiently as she poured two sodas for the young couple enjoying their meal by the jukebox.

"No way," Emily refused hastily, cowering even more in her seat wayyyy by the door. "The counter is only a stone's throw away from the kitchen. You know, where Grouchy McGrouchster lives." She shuddered visibly, pulling the sleeves of her royal blue wool sweater over her manicured nails. "He still hates me. I'll take my chances freezing here by the door."

"Emily, Jason doesn't hate you."

"Oh, yes, he does," Emily nodded vehemently. "After that little conversation we had last week? You know, where I barged into the kitchen and demanded what the hell had crawled up his ass and set up permanent residence-"

"Because you're a meddling busybody," Elizabeth finished helpfully, refilling her water glass.

"-Who only wants the absolute best for her bestest friend," Emily clarified pointedly. "Anyway…he hates me."

"He barely thinks about you, Em, I'm sure. He's probably totally forgotten about that conversation. Jason's not like other people – he doesn't hold grudges. He doesn't think in the past."

"Do you think he spit in my hamburger?" Emily asked, poking at the bun of her uneaten sandwich. "I mean, if he had, I could see it, right? But then again, spit is clear, so…"

"Em, just eat the damn sandwich."

"No! What if he spit in it?"

Letting out a frustrated huff, Elizabeth turned around to face the kitchen and dropped her hands to her hips. "Jason? Did you or did you not spit in Emily's hamburger?"

"Elizabeth! No! What are you doing-" Emily let out a terrified yelp at the loud clatter that suddenly sounded in the kitchen. In an instant, Jason's spiked head poked out over the doors and the angry scowl dominating his handsome features made Emily cover her eyes with fear.

"What the hell? No, I didn't spit in her goddamn sandwich-"

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied with a bright smile before turning around to her friend. "Hear that, John Nash? Jason did not, in fact, spit in your sandwich and he is not waging a holy crusade to ruin your lunch, so just eat it."

"Now he _really_ hates me," Emily mumbled glumly as she lifted the burger to her lips.

* * *

Jason sat back on the counter behind the register, eating his sandwich – a number seven, no onions, of course – and looking out at the diner. It was practically empty – just a young couple in the corner and Emily and Elizabeth by the door. Jason frowned as his eyes lingered on Elizabeth's slender form. She was dressed only in her faded blue jeans – the ones he liked, with the ripped knees – and a t-shirt that loudly proclaimed in big bold letters, _All Flash, No Cash_. She had to be freezing.

He scowled and bit into his sandwich, watching Emily lean forward with excitement and said something that threw both of them into a fit of girlish giggles. Stupid woman. Sitting by the door, freezing her butt off. Offhandedly, he wondered what had them both so excited. They looked as thick as thieves in their little corner, like they were plotting world domination or something equally sinister.

Without his permission, Jason found his gaze dropping to the small of Elizabeth's back as she leaned forward in her chair, causing her shirt to rise in the back. She had a very narrow waist, her skin creamy and soft, and his eyes followed the light trail of her spine lower and lower to that little pocket of air as her skin disappeared under her jeans. And was that-yes, yes it was: bright red underwear.

"Excuse me? Excuse me? Sir?" Jason snapped himself out of his perverted musings, glaring darkly at the yuppie that was leaning over the counter.

"What do you want?"

The man opened his mouth and then abruptly snapped it shut, looking much like a fish out of water. Taking in the dark gleam in Jason's eyes, he quickly thought better of ordering dessert and quickly replied that all he wanted was to settle his tab. It only took a few minutes and as soon as it was done, he grabbed his date's hand and they quickly left the diner.

Jason frowned, his eyes turning back to Elizabeth again. Emily happened to glance up and caught him watching, and Jason wasn't pleased at the cat-ate-the-canary glitter in her green eyes. Sighing to himself, he crammed the last of his sandwich into his mouth and disappeared into the safety of the kitchen.

Elizabeth had left out an oven mitt – a white one with little green flowers – from when she was making the muffins earlier. He picked it up and fingered it before slipping it into the appropriate drawer. In all his time here, he had never worn oven mitts or used tongs – he wasn't afraid of getting a little burned. Lord knew that he had worse injuries to worry about when he was a mechanic.

But Elizabeth – she was different. He thought of her small hands, smooth and soft, and was suddenly very thankful that she took such great precautions. She had gotten burned once about two months ago, and it was the biggest commotion he'd ever heard. Apparently, the girl had a ridiculously low threshold for pain.

Not knowing what else to do to keep himself occupied and not ogling Elizabeth, Jason poured out a cup of coffee and pulled himself up onto the counter. The day had been passing slowly – _very_ slowly. And it was very agonizing.

From the minute he had walked in to see Elizabeth in her pigtails and cute little pajamas, he should have known that there would be a slim chance of making it out of Valentine's Day alive. He honestly wouldn't have minded the whole situation if they were…an item; her innocent touches and cute teasing would have been perfectly bearable then.

But the damn woman was so set on being friends and was so clueless about what she was doing to him with the gentlest brush of her fingers, the smallest of smiles, that Jason wanted to scream. This was what he got for leaving Lizzie Webber high and dry – he got a _friend_. A friend that was utterly unaffected by the fact that he was a man – damn straight, he was! – and working in such close proximity of her day in and day out. A friend that thought nothing of wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin on his head in order to read over his shoulder as he caught up on current events. A friend that thought nothing of pulling him away from the coffee maker by the belt loop of his jeans when the caffeine-monkey on her back was going ape. A friend that thought nothing of pulling her chair up to his and leaning against him as she tried to wade her way through her latest reading assignment. That's what he got.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

"So it's all been going good, right?" Emily had finished her lunch long ago and should have been at home working on her book, but certain things took precedence to actual responsibilities. "You've been using _every _available opportunity, right?"

"Oh, definitely," Elizabeth scoffed, waving a hand at her. "Em, I've so got this covered. From the decorating bit in the morning to the pancakes and having breakfast together again – it's going great. We're totally buddy-buddy, and it's almost scary. This is going to be excellent."

"I'm amazed at how quickly this happened, though, to tell you the truth," the redhead mused, propping her chin in her hands. "Just two weeks ago, you guys were…yeah, I don't think I need to go into great detail seeing as how _I'm_ the one that screwed it up, but…Gosh, now you're actually friends." Her smile was wide and pleased. "Amazing. You've actually forged a friendly connection with Jason Morgan. Who'da thunk it?"

"Oh, I know," Elizabeth answered, lowering her voice. "I feel so much more confident about this whole thing now, Em. I mean, we did become friends pretty fast, which one could interpret as meaning that he doesn't find me _completely_ repulsive. Maybe this whole seduction business isn't going to be a train wreck."

"You used the word _seduction_!" Emily squealed happily. "Eee! I knew it! Oh, this is going to be awesome. What a great Valentine's Day."

* * *

"Ooh, yes! Finally, they're done!" Clearly excited, Elizabeth slipped her hand into the oven mitt she had placed on the counter earlier and pulled a tray out of the oven. Jason, who was manning the dinnertime chili, glanced down curiously.

"What's that?"

"A special Valentine's Day dessert," she answered happily. "Hugs cookies. See?" She held up a cookie that appeared to have a Hershey's Hug in it somewhere under all the nuts and powdered sugar.

"You're actually planning to _eat_ that?" Jason asked, his voice conveying his disapproval. "That's pure sugar, and it's going to rot your teeth."

"You got coal for Christmas a lot as a young boy, didn't you, Jason?" she asked after a pause, sprinkling even more powdered sugar on her cookies. "I don't care what you say – they're awesome. Call them a special Valentine's present for everyone at Kelly's." She finished scraping them off the tray and held one up to him. "Try one?"

He frowned at her. "Elizabeth-"

"Oh, come on, Jason, it's a little one," she coaxed, brushing the cookie against his lips. "See? It's _yummmmmmy_."

Rolling his eyes, Jason opened his mouth and allowed her to feed him the cookie. His lips closed over her fingertips as well, and Jason could taste that they were covered in powdered sugar.

"S-So?" Elizabeth asked, doing her best to cover up the fact that her heart rate had sped up the minute Jason's tongue had flicked her fingers. "What do you think?"

"Not bad," he got out around a mouthful of chocolate and nuts. "Pretty good."

"See?" She flashed him a saucy smile as she picked up her tray and prepared to leave the kitchen. "I told you so. And remember to brush your teeth, Morgan."

He shook his head at her patronizing tone. Damn that woman.

* * *

"I am _so_ freaking exhausted," Penny wheezed, slumping in her chair at the counter. "It's like the whole town decided to get out for a Valentine's dinner. Jesus."

"Oh, I know," April frowned, taking off her shoe and rubbing the arch of her socked foot. "That was insane."

Jason marched out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Look, the radio said there's supposed to be a snow storm tonight, and it's already starting. Whoever has to go should leave now."

Cyndi's brows furrowed. "Jason, we have to close up – we can't just stick you with it-"

"It's fine," he cut her off. "We're supposed to get about six inches before midnight, so unless you want to end up in a ditch tonight, you'd better leave now."

Jen and Lisa exchanged nervous glances. They were supposed to be house-sitting for their step-mom who lived about half an hour away, and they both felt quite guilty accepting Jason's generous offer. "Are you sure, Jason?"

"Yeah. Go."

Lisa let out a relieved sigh as she grabbed her winter coat along with her sister's. "Jeez, thanks, Jason – we owe you big time. Next week, closing's on us."

"Same here," April agreed, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "I'll take over dishwashing duty for next week, too. Later, guys."

"I'll help you close up, Jason," Elizabeth smiled. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"I will, too," Penny agreed. "It's the least I can do."

"Don't be silly, Penny," Elizabeth replied in a loud, sugary sweet voice. "I already said I'd take care of it."

"But-"

"I said I'd take care of it."

The Taiwanese girl studied Elizabeth's face, her tight smile and the quirked brow, and finally got it. "Oh, sure. Okay, thanks, Liz." Doing her best to contain her giggles, she quickly ran up the stairs to her room to start on her homework.

"You can go, too, if you want," Jason offered, setting the coffee pot in the sink. "It's late and you've been on your feet for the past three hours."

"It's no problem, Jason, honestly," Elizabeth replied. "With the both of us working, it won't take long."

"Have you eaten dinner yet?" her co-worker asked abruptly. "I didn't see you take your break."

"I didn't," Elizabeth confirmed, turning on the water and starting on the dishes. "Why?"

"I didn't either, so I think I'll heat something up for us," came the reply as Jason disappeared into the kitchen.

An hour and ten minutes later, the diner was spotless. Elizabeth had run the dishwasher twice and put away all the clean dishes and silverware. Together, she and Jason had stripped off all the decorations and put them away in a cardboard box for the next year, and then they put all the chairs up on the tables. Jason disappeared into the kitchen once more as Elizabeth swept up the floor.

Just as she had finished and was putting the broom and dustpan away in the closet, Jason emerged from behind the green double-doors carrying a pan of something and two plates. Elizabeth watched curiously as he set it on the counter, cleared the chairs off one of the tables, and set the food there. Slowly, she shut the door and followed him. "What's that?"

He spun around at the sound of her voice, looking deliciously flustered. "Uh…dinner?"

Elizabeth peeked over his shoulder, and a wide grin spread across her face when she spied the food. "Jason! That's a _heart-shaped _pizza!"

A faint blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Yeah, well…I thought you might like it."

She was laughing already, and had moved past him to inspect the pizza. "Oh, my gosh! It's incredible! It's a freaking heart!" She turned to face him, and he was taken aback by the brilliance of her deep sapphire eyes. "Have I told you yet how awesome you are?"

"About three times today."

"Oh, good." Her bottom lip found itself between her teeth as she looked down at the dinner he'd spontaneously made for them. "Wow."

Rolling his eyes, Jason grabbed two sodas and stalked toward the table. "Well? You gonna eat it or just stare at it?"

"I'd like to stare a little longer, please," she replied, sitting down and passing him a plate. Jason just smirked and reached for the pizza cutter, not prepared when her fingers wrapped around his wrist, shooting bolts of electricity up his arm. "Jason, no! You can't cut it!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a heart!"

"And aren't we going to eat it, Elizabeth?"

She pouted at the rationality behind it all. "But it's a heart."

Jason sighed and sat back in his chair. "So you wanna just look at it all night long?"

Elizabeth was studying the pizza, squinting her eyes, and finally let go of his wrist. "Cut it in half."

"Half?"

"Yeah, right down the middle." She watched as he obliged, rolling the metal slicer smoothly through the cheese. "That way, we both get half of the heart."

"Here's yours, then," he muttered, sliding it onto her plate. He lifted his to his lips, stopping when he realized she had yet to touch hers. "What's the matter? You like pizza."

"I just don't want to ruin it," she sighed. "It's a _heart_, Jason."

"It's just half a heart."

"The idea is still there."

"Elizabeth, you weigh ten goddamn ounces. Eat the pizza."

She slid him a sidelong glance and reached for her food. "You're bossy."

"And you're annoying."

Her laughter was muffled by a mouthful of bread and cheese. "And that's why we make the perfect friends – you're the Martin to my Lewis, the Michael to my Fredo, the Mickey Rooney to my Judy Gar-"

"Elizabeth?"

"What?"

"Just eat."

She chewed slowly, just watching him eat next to her. The man had made her dinner. And a heart-shaped pizza no less. Jason was almost done when he looked up and saw her smiling softly at him.

"What?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jason."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter 09**

The snowstorm that hit that night was incredible. The roads were coated in a matter of minutes and visibility had been reduced to a joke. And the white fluff just kept on coming.

The ride back to Jake's had been difficult, and it wasn't the first time Jason cursed the fact that he only owned a motorcycle and not a car. A good, sensible, four-wheel drive car.

But he kept to the tracks of the vehicle ahead of him and was careful to watch his speed and finally made it home. Jake's was roaring with music and laughter when he walked in, exhausted from the day's work and ready for bed. A couple of drunks by the pool table were getting rowdy but Jason didn't stick around to break up the inevitable fight; the other bouncers were on duty tonight and they would handle it.

His jeans and socks were wet and cold, and he stripped them off as soon as he entered the room. They ended up on the rung of the tub in his tiny bathroom, and next came his shirt, which landed in a heap on the floor by his bed. His jacket was hung on the chair by his desk and his gloves were lying on top of it, and Jason quickly began to search around for his sweatpants. Finally finding some, he pulled them on and flopped into a recliner in the corner to check his phone.

He had felt it ringing while he was driving but there was no way he would have pulled it out and answered it. And now as he looked at the tiny flashing screen, he was surprised to see that he had received seven calls in the course of an hour – all from the same person.

Jason punched the call button and settled back against the recliner, waiting as it rang. She picked up on the second ring, and her breathless voice met his ears like a sweet caress. "Jason! It's me! Are you okay?"

"Elizabeth." He was still surprised that she had called – and seven times, no less. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why did you call?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know! Maybe because we're going through the second Ice Age right now and you're on the road flying around on that flimsy metal death trap!"

He smiled even though she sounded slightly hysterical. "You always said that you liked my bike."

"Sure – just not when you have to drive all the way to Jake's in the middle of a blizzard! Are you sure you're all right?"

The concern in her voice warmed his heart. "Yes, Elizabeth, I'm fine."

"Oh." She sounded a little embarrassed now. "Promise?"

"Promise."

He heard her sigh into the receiver. "Good. That's…good. Okay."

Jason smirked. "Okay."

"Uh, yeah, well…" She was definitely embarrassed – he could hear it clearly in her breathy voice. "Okay. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks for…being concerned." He was apparently as surprised to hear the words as she was, but then her warm voice filtered through the phone before he had time to be embarrassed at being so forward.

"Oh, Jason, of course. We were all sitting upstairs in Penny's room and I turned and looked out the window at the storm and suddenly all I could see was you on that bike. I just had to make sure you got home okay."

"Well, I did."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Jason."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Night. Oh, and Jason?"

He had been about to hang up and quickly brought the phone back to his ear at the sound of her hesitant voice. "Yeah? What is it?"

"I, um…" He could almost see her smiling that cute little nervous smile of hers. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For dinner. And decorating. It was all a really sweet gesture, and it was really fun to spend Valentine's Day with a friend. Thank you."

And with that, she hung up, leaving Jason to stare blankly at his cell phone as a slow grin spread on his face. The knowledge that he had somehow brightened her day made him surprisingly happy – and knowing that she had called up to make sure he was okay made him feel surprisingly secure. There was no doubt that he could take care of himself, but knowing that someone out there was worried about him and watching out for him was very comforting.

Halfway across town at Kelly's, Elizabeth Webber tossed her phone onto her nightstand and leaned back comfortably against the pillows piled by her headboard. It had really been a great day.

"Will you look at that?" Elizabeth mused, her small nose pressed to the glass doorpanes as Penny peered over her shoulder at the world outside. "It's still coming down." The snow had stopped sometime in the night, giving the plows sufficient time to clean the roads. But it had started up this morning once more, and the streets and sidewalks hadn't been visible for a while.

"Wow," Penny breathed, her small hands on Elizabeth's shoulder. "There's so _much_of it. I hope Greg can get through."

Greg was her boyfriend and he was supposed to be picking her up so that they could spend the weekend at his little cabin a bit farther upstate. "I do, too," Elizabeth murmured, patting Penny's hand reassuringly. They waited around downstairs for what seemed like an eternity but was in fact only fifteen minutes. Finally, a shivering Greg made it through the front door of Kelly's and Penny leaped into his arms. He kissed her and grabbed her duffel bag and the two waved goodbye to Elizabeth before stepping outside.

Left alone in the diner, Elizabeth fiddled around with the jukebox until Renee and Seth came downstairs, dressed and ready for their respective days at work. Since they still had a while before they opened, Renee flopped down at the table with a magazine as Seth stared at his reflection in the microwave, using it to fix his tie. And then the young reporter was off, calling out a hasty goodbye to his two friends and running off to another day at the presses.

Renee and Elizabeth fooled around for a little while – playing music, chatting idly – as the clock ticked by. The tall redhead resumed flipping through her _Vogue_ while Elizabeth only had eyes for the clock. Jason was late. And since Jason Morgan was _never_ late, it had begun to worry her.

Ten minutes later, the back door creaked open and Jason slowly shuffled in, looking at the ground as he walked. A bright smile bloomed on Elizabeth's face as soon as she saw him, and the petite brunette stood up immediately. "Jason! Hey, I was beginning to wonder-"

She stopped abruptly when his gaze flew up to hers with surprise. Jason averted his piercing eyes and Elizabeth's sapphire ones traveled slowly down his body until she saw the reason for his tardiness. "Oh, Jason…"

Her friend's jeans were soaked, dirty, and ripped at the knee. Underneath the torn denim, she could see the crimson blood around his kneecap. Instantly, her hand flew to her mouth as she gaped back at him with wide eyes. Seeing the look in her eyes, Jason immediately freed the hand that was holding the tattered cloth away from his bloodied leg and put both palms in the air. "Woah, Elizabeth, it's okay, really-"

"Jason, you're hurt," she exclaimed sorrowfully, pushing the chairs out of her way as she quickly flew to his side. Across the room, Renee had abandoned her magazine and was making her way over as well.

"It's okay," Jason tried to explain to the women, "it's not that bad. I just – _shit_." He cursed low under his breath when Elizabeth's fingers pulled the denim away from his leg where it stuck. She was kneeling in front of him, quickly assessing the injury as Renee worriedly nibbled on the nail of her index finger.

"Jason, it's not okay," she replied in a low voice. "We have to get this cleaned up – it's full of gravel. What the hell happened?"

"Nothing," he tried to hedge. "It's – _motherfu-"_

Elizabeth sighed when he swore in pain once more, then turned to Renee. "Help me get him upstairs, will you?" The redhead nodded immediately and moved to Jason's other side. Elizabeth tugged on his arm to lead him toward the stairs, but Jason tried to shrug her off.

"Elizabeth, it's okay – I'll just clean up in the bathroom right here and be right out."

But the brunette just shook her head. "Jason, that bathroom's too small and there's no tub anyway. I'm not sure if you realize this or not, but you have gravel and stones deep inside the cut and you need to let me clean it out. Now, come on – please."

Sighing with defeat, Jason allowed the brunette to lead him toward the stairs. The two women had to help him ascend them, which Jason did with a considerable amount of pain. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of climbing, they were at the top and Elizabeth was leading him to her room. "Come on, Jason."

The blonde eyed her bedroom door warily, glancing back at the bathroom behind him. "I can take it from here, Elizabeth-"

"I don't think so," she countered smoothly, already pushing her door open and leading him to the bed. Renee helped him sit on the blue comforter, which Jason did reluctantly, and then turned to Elizabeth for instruction. "Can you get me some warm water – not too warm, test it first – and a couple of washcloths?"

"Sure, sure," the girl nodded without question. "I'll come up with those and then I'll try to find those long bandages Bobbie keeps around here."

"OK, thanks," Elizabeth smiled gratefully as the redhead left the room. Her gaze drifted over to Jason who was seated at the absolute edge of her bed and trying to assess the damage to his right leg. He was holding the denim apart where it had ripped and was frowning at the mess underneath. With a sigh, Elizabeth made her way toward him.

Jason blinked when she blocked out the light and looked up. She was standing in front of him with her small hands on her narrow hips and a look of pure resolution on her face.

"Strip, Morgan."

Amusement kicked up the corner of his mouth. "Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes with a huff, clearly not amused. "Well, we're not going to get anywhere if you're going to keep being such a prude, are we? So strip."

"I'm not a prude," Jason frowned, not moving an inch as she glared down at him.

"Yeah, okay, Morgan," Elizabeth acquiesced, flicking her hand at his jeans. "Off with the pants." When he didn't move, she glowered at him. "I'm going to go wash my hands, and when I get back, I expect you to be sitting there without any pants on."

She was barely outside the room before she turned and looked quizzically at his grinning face. "That came out sounding freakishly weird, didn't it?"

Not waiting for a reply and blushing slightly at his rusty chuckle, Elizabeth left the room. Hearing the water running in the nearby bathroom, the blonde man sighed and slowly shucked his jeans. He had them around his hips and was attempting to shimmy out of them when Elizabeth returned with a large container of water and several washcloths draped over her shoulder.

She set the towels and water on the floor by his feet and slowly helped him remove the denim. She had to remove his shoes and socks first, and then wadded up the bloody denim and placed it behind her. Jason was seated in front of her wearing nothing but a full-sleeved blue shirt and his black boxers, and it took everything Elizabeth had not to visibly ogle him.

The man was built like a god. She had known that from their first make-out session in the kitchen. Hell, she had known it from the minute he'd walked into his aunt's diner to start work, a devilishly sexy scowl marring his handsome features. He was tall with strong, broad shoulders and an equally strong chest. She could see the definition of his muscles even beneath the sweater he wore and if she had a little less self-control, she would have contrived some reason for him to take that off as well.

His chest tapered down to a lean waist and his black boxers were slung low against his narrow hips. Elizabeth blinked rapidly as she busied herself with the washcloth and water. _Jason Morgan was sitting on her bed in his boxers_. It just didn't get any better. Well, unless he was to be sitting on her bed _without_ his boxers.

She kept her devilish grin in check, reminding herself of the plan. It just wouldn't do to ogle the man and his package while she cleaned him up – she'd throw all her progress out the window. Steeling herself, Elizabeth looked up to meet his intense blue eyes. "OK. Let's do this."

He gazed down at her when she brought the washcloth to his shin, gently wiping away the wet blood that had trickled down and was beginning to crust. Her touch was soft and soothing, and several minutes passed before either of them spoke.

"How did this happen?" She was looking at the cut, not at him, and Jason found that he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her lips since she had started. "Jason?"

He snapped himself out of his silent reverie, shaking his head briskly. "I, uh…lost control of the bike."

That got her attention. Elizabeth stared up at him through big sapphire orbs, not sure if she'd heard him right. "You lost control of the bike? Jason, you _never_ lose control of the bike."

He shrugged helplessly. "There was a patch of ice on a curve and the truck in front of me braked really fast. I had to spin out onto the shoulder-"

"Lemme guess – the gravel shoulder," she added wryly.

Jason nodded. "-and the bike spun out from under me."

Elizabeth sighed softly, gently separating the torn flesh with her fingers and holding it so she could get at the pieces of stone embedded in it. "You could have been hurt much worse. Thank God it's just a cut…" Her voice trailed off as she attacked the wound, periodically dipping the washcloth in water and renewing her efforts.

They sat in silence, Jason on the bed and Elizabeth kneeling in front of him. She worked smoothly and diligently, removing bits of stone and gravel carefully from his skin and murmuring soothing words of comfort when he stiffened and hissed with pain. When the washcloth turned pink from his blood, Elizabeth wadded it up and threw it on top of his jeans, reaching for the other one and never losing her rhythm.

Jason marveled at the comfort in her touch; her fingers soothed with every caress, and the sharp pain in his knee had eased slightly as she'd been cleaning it up. He felt as if he should be helping – or better yet, doing it himself – but as her gentle touch became almost hypnotic, Jason leaned back and let himself get lost in the warm comfort she offered.

Her soft voice broke the hushed silence in the small room. "This is going to sting a little, okay?"

Jason winced when the antiseptic she sprayed entered his wound, curling his fingers into her blue comforter. She looked up sympathetically at him and blew gently onto his wound without breaking eye contact. Jason's eyes darkened at the sight of her full lips set in a soft pucker as she soothed the sting and he unconsciously leaned forward.

"That should do it." Elizabeth's voice jarred him into the presence and he leaned back again almost abruptly. "Let's get this bandaged up. Renee?"

"I've got 'em!" came a yell from down the hall and in less than a minute, the tall redhead had bounded into the room triumphantly waving a cloth bandage over her head. "Found it!"

"Wonderful," Elizabeth grinned, reaching for the pale brown cloth. "Thanks bunches, hon."

"No problem. You guys need anything else?" Renee's green eyes darted from Elizabeth to Jason and back.

"Nope," the brunette answered, already ripping the package over. "Thanks, though."

"All right," Renee smiled, backing out of the room. "If you need me, just give a holler."

Jason's cerulean eyes settled on Elizabeth as the young woman slowly unraveled the long bandage. Sparks shot through his nerves when she hooked a cool hand under his strong calf and tugged lightly, bringing his leg forward and within easier reach. She raised herself to her knees and placed a hand high on his thigh, her fingers grazing just below the edge of his boxers as she began to wrap up the terrible gash.

She worked slowly and thoroughly, pausing only once to unwind one section and redo it, and Jason couldn't seem to tear his gaze away. "You know what you're doing."

It was a statement, but she understood it to be a question as it was supposed to be. "Well, yeah. I'm pretty good with cuts and bruises and the like – seen it all through my childhood back home."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, pursing those ripe lips of hers as the bandage reached his kneecap. The goal was to wrap it tightly enough so that the blood would clot and it would heal, yet loose enough so that Jason could walk somewhat normally. She never noticed how tenderly he was gazing down at her. "My parents are both doctors, and so are my brother and sister." She huffed away at a piece of hair that had fallen into her face, a sweet little quirk that Jason found adorable. "Steven and Sarah were practically born to be doctors. They both ran around the house with little stethoscopes when they were kids, announcing that Mr. V. had an irregular heartbeat."

Jason quirked a sandy brow at her. "Mr. V.?"

The brunette beauty at his feet blushed, peeking up at him for only a moment before adjusting the bandage around his knee. "That was my stuffed rabbit. He was about three feet tall and made of the softest velveteen you could imagine. That was what I named him after – _The Velveteen Rabbit_. It was my favorite storybook when I was little."

The older man smiled softly at the little insight into her childhood. Elizabeth's fingers brushed through the golden hair on his leg, causing him to shiver, which Elizabeth mistakenly took to mean that he was cold.

"Oh, Jason, I'm sorry – I'll hurry up so you can get dressed again." Her fingers worked feverishly, trying to quickly wrap the bandage around his strong leg. And then Jason's large hands, warm and rough, closed over her smaller ones, causing Elizabeth to look up in surprise. He was leaning down and his face was just inches from hers. His breath floated down toward her and she inhaled his scent of coffee, toothpaste…and snow.

"It's fine, Elizabeth. I'm fine." She nodded once, a pretty pink blush staining her porcelain cheeks, and resumed working at her normal pace. Jason studied her hands, the way they moved, the way her fingers fluttered. "You didn't become a doctor."

Again, it was a statement to be treated as a question. "No," Elizabeth replied softly, shaking her head. "I didn't. I didn't want to." A wry smile curved her glossed lips. "Not that my parents didn't try hard enough – they stopped just short of strapping me to a chair and making me watch Doogie Howser reruns for twenty-four hours straight."

She shook her head again, adjusting the last part of the bandage around his muscular leg. "The thing that killed them most was that I was good at it – I was really good at it. My grandpa Steve's a doctor, too, and the thing everyone says about him is that he has the greatest bedside manner. He puts his patients at ease and he talks to them and actually cares about them. When they come back to see him again, he always remembers to ask about their tuba recital or their football tournament – the patients just love him."

Elizabeth smiled fondly down at the bandage without seeing it. "He always said that I had the same bedside manner. I was seven when he told me that for the first time. One of my friends' little brother fell out of a tree and scraped his knee, and I told my friend to get some water and a washcloth, and Grandpa was walking home from the drugstore when he saw me sitting on the ground in front of this five-year-old, and I was picking the grass out of his cut and telling him some joke and he was laughing his head off."

"I was always good at that sort of thing. I had the bedside manner, sure, but I also had the knowledge." Jason watched her attentively as her polished fingers straightened the edge of the brown cloth. "We had to take anatomy as a requirement in my high school, and it came so naturally to me. My parents were heavily invested in that class and would get mad when they wouldn't see me studying for it. One day, I got so irritated with them that I dragged them into my Grandpa's study and explained each part of the model skeleton he kept in there in detail, along with all the muscle groups. They never bothered me about anatomy after that – they just started to push me harder to go into medicine."

"But you liked art," Jason supplied helpfully.

She nodded. "I liked art. And I liked to dance. And they hated that." Letting out a soft breath, she slid her hand under the sole of his foot and bent his leg gently back and forth, testing the way the bandage stretched across his knee. "How's that? Feel all right?"

"What, are you going to try to walk for me now, too?" Jason joked, standing up on his own and testing the bandage out himself. He snickered at the way she blushed and held out his hand to help her up. "It feels fine. Thanks."

"No problem," she smiled back. They stood there for a minute, just looking at each other, until Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Oh, Jason!"

"What?"

"You don't have any pants!"

He couldn't repress the laughter that tickled the back of his throat as he watched her stare at him in horror. "I guess not." Deciding against having a little fun at her expense, Jason reached for the keys in his leather jacket. "I keep an extra change of clothes in the cab of my bike-"

"Say no more," Elizabeth interrupted, plucking the keys from his hand. "I'll go get 'em. You just sit tight. No going anywhere, all right, Morgan?"

"Where would I go without pants?" he muttered at her back as she left, closing the door behind her. She was back in five minutes with another pair of jeans and a clean sweater. Jason took them from her gratefully but then stood still, waiting for her to leave. Elizabeth, however, was kneeling on the floor cleaning up the mess she'd made and looked up at him in question.

"What?"

Jason's cerulean eyes darted around the small room. "Uh, I was going to change, so…"

"Are you being a prude again, Jason?" she teased, shoving his bloody jeans and the washcloth into a plastic bag to get rid of. "Just change. Who cares?"

Well, obviously not Elizabeth. Jason glanced down at her, confused for a moment before stripping off his damp sweater and pulling on the new one she had brought for him. Obviously, the sight of him half-naked didn't bother his new friend one bit. Not one damn bit. The woman hadn't even batted a damn eyelash.

"Need help with that?" Elizabeth asked helpfully, motioning to his jeans. Jason looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, and the petite brunette tried to brush his surprise away with a warm smile. "Jason, it's okay – if you want my help-"

"No, no, it's fine," he insisted, succeeding in putting his good leg through the jeans only to struggle with the other one. "I-I can do it."

Elizabeth watched him wince painfully as he tried to manipulate his leg into the denim jeans, then sighed and moved forward to help without being asked. "Damn it, Morgan, you're a real piece of work. Sit down."

She had to practically shove him down onto the bed once more before she could reach for his jeans. Elizabeth wrapped one hand around his calf over the bandage and slowly helped him slide the denim up without disturbing the still tender muscles in his leg. When that was done, she offered him her hand and tugged him up until he was standing, and Jason took it from there. He was still slightly put off by the fact that none of this bothered Elizabeth at all – if she was any of the other women he had been with, she'd have been panting by now, he was sure – but he quickly brushed those thoughts aside as he slipped on his socks and shoes.

"Done," Elizabeth smiled proudly, surveying him like the owner of a winning racehorse would survey the stallion. "Can you walk on it okay?"

"Yeah," Jason replied slowly, pacing idly around the room. "It's not too bad."

"Good." The brunette beauty slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and steered them both toward the door. "Now it's time for you to get downstairs and start making pancakes – because I am _starving_."

Jason's hearty chuckles echoed down the hallway as Elizabeth pulled the door of her bedroom firmly shut behind them.

"Jason, why didn't you call me?" Bobbie Cassidine was almost beside herself with worry. "Elizabeth, why didn't you make him call me? You know I would have been here in two minutes flat-"

"Aunt Bobbie, it's okay, really," Jason tried to assure her, shifting his weight from foot to foot in embarrassment. His aunt was making a big deal of nothing – and in front of Elizabeth, no less.

"Really, Bobbie, he's right," Elizabeth tried to explain to the older woman, putting one hand on Jason's strong shoulder and the other on his arm, rubbing it softly in a subconscious act of comfort.

"He's not right!" Bobbie exclaimed. "Jason, you fell off the _bike_, for goodness' sake! Oh, I told you not to buy that thing – I _told _you that you'd only end up hurting yourself. And now look what's happened!"

"Bobbie, it wasn't anyone's fault," Elizabeth tried again. "You know that Jason's a very good driver, and he's always been really careful on the bike. Well, for as long as I've known him," she added hesitantly, blushing slightly when she felt Jason's eyes on her. "Really, if I thought it was serious, you know that you'd be the first person I called. But it wasn't – I just cleaned him up and wrapped up the cut and he's as good as new."

Bobbie was slowly relenting but trying not to show it. "This is no weather for a bike, Jason, you should know that. Oh, God, you could have been hurt so much worse-"

The older man reluctantly extricated himself from Elizabeth's gentle grip and placed his large hands on his aunt's elbow, speaking firmly to her in a low voice. "Aunt Bobbie, listen to me. I'm fine. It's okay." He tipped his head to the side, an amused smirk causing his lips to curl up. "And I was in good hands."

Bobbie offered her nephew and a blushing Elizabeth a half-smile at that. "Well, I won't argue with you there." She shook her head slowly, a few tendrils of red hair escaping from the jeweled clip she wore. "Oh, Jason, I wish you'd listen to me and move into Kelly's."

The blonde rolled his devastatingly blue eyes and stepped back. "Aunt Bobbie-"

"Just hear me out, Jason, please," she begged. "You wouldn't have to ride that…that…_thing_ halfway across town every morning and night to get to work; you wouldn't have to put up with the noise and the drunks and the fights that you do at Jake's." Her large green eyes gleamed pleadingly. "Look at Elizabeth and all the other girls – they're happy here. It works. They don't have to get up and face the cold every morning to get to work. For God's sake, they run around here in sandals and t-shirts in the middle of winter!"

_And miniskirts_, Jason couldn't help but think with a small grin, not noticing the way Elizabeth peered at him curiously.

"You'd be so much closer to everything, Jason," Bobbie continued. "I would be able to come visit with you whenever I wanted to – wouldn't you like that? And you'd have Elizabeth here to keep you company."

Jason glanced hesitantly over his shoulder at the tiny brunette, unsure of what reaction he'd see displayed on her beautiful face. A smirk instantly claimed his lips when he turned to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively before she dissolved into concealed giggles.

"Jason, I worry about you," Bobbie said softly. "I worry every time you get on that bike, every time you don't get enough sleep, every time you don't eat right. You're the son I was never able to have, Jason, and I just want to make sure you're taken care of."

"I am," he tried to assure her, but the older woman was set in her ways. She wrung her hands nervously as she tried to come up with more reasons – any reason – to convince him to stay.

"You wouldn't even have to pay rent here," she blurted. "Not like you do at Jake's. And you wouldn't have to be a bouncer. And your neighbors are such nice girls, Jason – they never make any noise, and you would actually be able to get some sleep. Please, sweetheart, just think about it."

"I will," Jason assured her, thinking that it would calm her down. "I will."

"Okay," Bobbie smiled up hesitantly before rising to her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek. "I have to get to the hospital, sweetheart, but I'll see you later, all right?" He nodded and the older redhead offered a warm smile to the little brunette tucked away behind his shoulder. "Goodbye, Elizabeth – thank you for taking care of him."

"Sure thing," the young woman replied, waving as Bobbie pushed open the door and stepped into the winter weather.

Jason smirked at her over his shoulder. "You still want those pancakes, Webber? Because that can be arranged."

She looked up at him with a smile shining in her expressive eyes and shook her head once. "It's fine – why don't you sit down? Take a load off those feet. Here." Without a second thought, she pulled out a nearby chair for Jason and motioned for him to sit. When he did, she slipped behind the counter and poured one mug of hot chocolate and one of coffee – black, no sugar – and made her way back to the table.

Jason accepted the coffee from her and sipped it slowly as she slid gracefully into the seat right next to his. She wore her dark denim jeans and a low-neck, deep red sweater with cream-colored embroidery. Her dainty feet were encased in leather boots – damn, he loved her in leather – and she wore a simple amulet necklace around her elegant neck. The result was ultimately stunning; she looked so different from those mornings when she'd wear her pajamas or her track suits. It was amazing to him how she could slip so seamlessly from the innocent schoolgirl look to the savvy, sexy maverick look she had going at the moment.

Her raven lashes fluttered against porcelain cheeks as she studied the marshmallow melting in her hot cocoa. "Jason…?"

He quirked a sandy brow at her, patiently waiting for the brunette beauty to meet his gaze. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking…"

She still wasn't looking at him, and Jason took a big gulp from his steaming mug of coffee. "Yeah?"

Intense sapphire eyes lifted from her cocoa to his, open and unassuming. "Maybe Bobbie's right."

He clicked his nails against the black mug. "About moving here?"

Elizabeth nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. You've gotta admit, she had some points. It's nicer than Jake's, you'd be closer to work, your neighbors would be _fantastic_-"

He smirked at the sexy little grin that had dominated her full lips. "Yeah? Really?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied knowingly. "Especially this one girl – she's _incredible_. You two would get along famously."

"Anyone I know?" Jason couldn't help but ask, his blue eyes twinkling as she played along.

"I don't know," she feigned. "She's a brunette – very petite, a little loud…"

"It's ringing some bells," he accepted airily, enjoying the way her eyes crinkled with laughter.

"Seriously, Jason," she tried again, jokingly swatting his arm. "On the other hand, it would be cheaper for you. And that's good, right? –You'd be able to get the garage up and running sooner. And that's the plan, isn't it?"

Jason was nodding slowly. "Yeah, it is, but…seriously, _Kelly's_?"

Elizabeth settled her chin into the palm of her hand, looking at him with amusement in her doe eyes. "And what, may I ask, is wrong with Kelly's?"

Jason couldn't help but laugh at the mock-offence in her voice. "Nothing. It's just that I'm more a Jake's kind of guy. The whole bar scene, the pool tables, the loud music…that's _me_. That suits me. And here, Kelly's…"

"Let me fill in the blanks," Elizabeth cut in, ticking off the points on her slender fingers. "It's demure, domestic, clean, _not dangerous_, there's a jukebox, and it's full of girls who do way too many girlie things, right?" She knew his answer even though he didn't reply. "You're such a chauvinist, Jason – you're just lucky I like you."

He laughed at that but stopped when her cool hand closed over his fingers. Sapphire eyes bore into his, serious but not pressuring him into anything, and Jason didn't say a word as she spoke.

"Just think about it, Jason. I know Jake's is you – I know that. But look at it from all angles; do a cost-benefit analysis. I mean, would it really be that bad having me a neighbor?" She quirked a playful smile at him before patting his hand and rising from her chair. "Just promise you'll consider it."

Jason's eyes didn't leave hers as she backed away from the table, her empty mug in her hand. "I will. I'll consider it, Elizabeth."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter 10**

Jason walked down the snow-covered pathway through the park, his hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket. It was a cold day, though not as cold as the others had been for the past two weeks. Snow was falling; fat, wet flakes that were sticking quite rapidly, and there was nothing more beautiful than the park on a wintry day.

After getting permission from his aunt, Jason had closed Kelly's after lunchtime and driven over to the site of his old garage. The construction company he had hired back when the place had burned down had done a fairly good job putting it back up. Drywalls had been erected and the place even had a roof over it. The winter snows had slowed productivity – actually, the snow had caused productivity to come to a grinding halt – but the little shack that would become his home once more in a couple months – after more work and one more floor addition - was nonetheless standing.

The team was a good one – it had been referred to him by Lorenzo Alcazar. Even though Jason didn't want to accept any favors from the mobster he had once helped out of a jam, he had to admit that he was glad Lorenzo had talked him into hiring the contractors. They put in long hours and did good work at an extremely reasonable price. However, what Jason didn't know was that the team was operating at cost only and would be receiving reimbursement from Mr. Alcazar upon completion. The mobster had explained this to the foreman specifically, and the workers were happy to comply after learning of the generous percentage he'd offer them.

The original foreman had to take a leave of absence and so Jason had gone to his old garage that day to meet with the man that would take his place. It was meant to be a cordial meeting; he had introduced himself to the new guy, a barrel-chested Italian by the name of Max Giambetti, and had shown him around the tentative structure. After looking at snapshots of the garage before the fire, Jason had brought out the floor plan he had made himself for the new building. He and Max had discussed it over a thermos of coffee that the Italian had brought along and before long, they were shaking hands and parting ways.

Jason blinked when a fat snowflake landed on his sandy lashes, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He loved the smell of snow. It was so crisp and clean, like there was nothing a good snowstorm couldn't wipe away. He had left his bike in the park's lot and decided to stroll on through on his way back to Kelly's for some more hot coffee.

He was enjoying the peaceful walk until – suddenly and out of nowhere – a snowball came careening at his head, swishing just in front of his nose. The snowball was immediately followed by a streak of bright red and before Jason knew what was happening, Elizabeth was in his arms. The brunette was dressed in her crimson coat and matching snow boots with red mittens and a white knit cap pulled snugly around her head and tied under chin, and she was wriggling and squealing to beat the band.

"Eeee! Jason!" His arms wrapped securely around her waist as he turned his body, seeking to protect her from the snowballs that whizzed past as she buried her face in the warm cavern of his neck and laughed giddily.

"There she is! Get her!" came a chorus of yells, and Jason looked over his shoulder to see Emily O'Brien and a band of children racing toward them, all armed with snowballs.

"Oh, crap!" Elizabeth's arms snaked around his neck as she peered over his shoulder, not even the slight bit affected when her temple pressed up against Jason's chin and his breath rustled through her bangs. Jason, however, couldn't say the same. "Jason! You have to-ack!" A snowball just narrowly missed her face and exploded on Jason's shoulder. "Save me, Jason!"

His heart caught in his throat as Elizabeth sought to burrow into his chest, and Jason wrapped his arms tightly around her narrow waist, letting his chin rest on her soft hat as he folded her up against his strong body.

"You can't get 'way that easy, Lizabeth!" one small boy yelled, armed with not one but two snowballs. "C'mon, Mister, let 'er go – we're in the middle of a game!"

"Never!" Elizabeth yelled back, clinging even tighter to Jason as she made faces at the gang of kids over his shoulder. "He'll _never_ let go!" She caught him off guard when she suddenly turned her face toward him and her small, red nose bumped against his as she whispered, "Jason, don't let me go."

"Don't worry, guys," Emily grinned wickedly, shooting Elizabeth a wink. "The White Knight can't stand around protecting her all day, you know."

Jason frowned at the redhead but she didn't seem to care as the kids leered as menacingly as they could at Elizabeth, who only made funny faces at them in reply. "What's going on?"

Elizabeth sniffed when her nose began to run slightly and let one mittened hand grasp the back of Jason's neck, smoothing over the soft golden hair there. "Jason, this is the gang. Gang, this is Jason."

"Hi, Jason," they all chirped before one small tow-headed little boy stepped forward. "Now can you please let her go? We have to _get her_!"

"That's right!" Emily gloated. "Hot chocolate for everyone after we've vanquished the fiend!" She cackled in Elizabeth's direction as she gestured toward the gang of children. "These sprouts know which side their bread is buttered on, that's for sure."

Elizabeth growled low in her throat, her blue eyes narrowing into slits, and Jason found her absolutely adorable. She was on her toes in front of him in order to peer over his shoulder, her entire body supported by his strong arms wrapped protectively around her waist, and her hands still clasped his shoulder and the nape of his neck as she laid out another battle strategy. "Hey, guys, how about this? –Brownies _and_ hot chocolate for everyone that can bean Emmy with a snowball!"

The kids considered it carefully, and Jason and Elizabeth both watched as small, wicked smiles spread across their cherubic faces. Slowly, they turned on the heels of their little Superman snowboots and looked at a suddenly flustered Emily.

"Oh, no," she was sputtering, holding her hands up and backing away slowly. "No, no, no – you can't do this. _She's_ the one that started chasing you guys – Tommy, she hit the tree branch so that it dropped a bunch of snow on your head, remember? And you – Alfie, she was the one that-"

"GET HER!" The boys let their snowballs fly as Emily turned hard on her heel and took off, squealing and cursing her best friend for playing upon the fickle nature of the kids' loyalty. Elizabeth giggled and hopped in place as the children tore after the redhead, scooping up snow and packing it into small balls as they ran.

Jason could only blink as she abruptly pulled out of his tight embrace, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Jason," she grinned, sidestepping him and scooping up some snow in her mittens. "You're the best! See you later!"

And with that, she took off after the pack of munchkins and left Jason standing alone in the cold, wondering how it could be that a snowball fight in the park suddenly seemed so incredibly appealing.

* * *

The kindergarteners sat at the counter at Kelly's enjoying the brownies and hot chocolate they had been promised while Emily and Elizabeth took the down-time to do some serious catching up in the little nook by the jukebox.

"It was perfect," Emily sighed with contentment. "Seriously, it couldn't have gone better if we'd actually planned it."

"I know," Elizabeth squealed, careful to keep her voice down. "What were the odds of him walking by right then? Man, Em, I have to say – the universe is most definitely on my side."

"Most definitely," the redhead agreed, clinking her mug of hot chocolate with Elizabeth's. "Did you see the way he was looking at you? Ooh, Lizzie!" She stamped her boots on the floor with excitement. "That man wants you – no doubt about it."

"You know, I think I might actually be starting to believe you," the brunette admitted shakily. "Holy cow."

"He looked hungry," Emily declared. "And I don't think a number 7 on rye, no onions, would have done the trick."

"_Emily_," her best friend growled, elbowing her in the side. "Shut up. Jesus."

They chattered away in the little nook, looking as thick as thieves to any customer that happened to walk by. Emily couldn't stop making dirty jokes and Elizabeth just couldn't stop blushing to save her life. They both agreed that excellent progress had been made in the Befriend the Borg phase of the plan, but when Emily suggested that it was time to start parading rival young men in front of Jason, Elizabeth was a little hesitant. They debated it back and forth – Emily claiming that Jason needed a good kick in the pants, Elizabeth arguing that she wanted to keep going with the friendship bit for a while longer before she ambushed him – and still they couldn't come to any real conclusion. Finally, Elizabeth announced that it was her quest and so she was the only one to decide what could be done, and Emily begrudgingly agreed as long as Elizabeth forfeited all her rights should her current situation be turned into a humorous romance novel sometime in the near future.

"What would it matter if I did or didn't?" Elizabeth asked sullenly. "You always steal material from my crazy life anyway – and I never see a dime."

"And that's why this friendship is so wonderful," Emily sighed happily. "We don't let money get in the way."

The kids had already cleared out by the time that Emily and Elizabeth finished their cocoa, and the two girls were still seated on the cushioned bench in the little nook when Jason walked into the diner. Emily was chattering on about something when she noticed that her best friend was no longer paying attention and was instead staring off somewhere else. Following her gaze, Emily wasn't surprised at all to see that it led straight to Jason. What did surprise her, however, was the intensity in the simple look they shared, and the genuine smile that tugged at the corners of the normally stoic mechanic's mouth.

Trying desperately to suppress her own wicked grin, Emily quickly rose and reached for her jacket, mumbling out any old excuse and slipping out into the mid-March evening. Elizabeth shifted on the little bench seat, pulling a pillow out from behind her and tossing it onto the bench as Jason slowly made his way over to her.

"Hey, there, stranger," she grinned cheekily, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

Jason smiled down at her, somewhat surprised when she cleared off a spot next to her and reached out to pull him down next to her. The little bench seat in the nook was small and their legs were so close together that Jason could feel her body heat. He shifted slightly, shrugging out of his jacket, and quirked a brow when Elizabeth grabbed it from his hands and folded it up in her arms. She always said that she loved the smell of leather, especially his jacket, and Jason couldn't help but feel an unexplainable surge of pride when she gushed about how _his_ jacket always smelled like pine trees and snow.

"So where've you been?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand and bringing his jacket up under her chin as she curled up on the cushion seat. "I thought I'd find you here when we got back from the park."

"I had some things to do," he replied simply. "I met with the new foreman for my garage today."

Elizabeth's dark eyes lit up. "Oh, really? How's that going?"

He shrugged and leaned back, bringing one muscular leg up underneath him. "Construction pretty much stopped as soon as it started snowing; the building's standing, but there's still a lot of work to be done. And the first foreman I had needed to take a leave of absence, so a new guy's filling in. Max Giambetti."

"Is he nice?" Elizabeth asked, twisting around to face him. She had changed into a pair of black track pants and a white sweatshirt, once again stepping into the role of the innocent schoolgirl he felt guilty about ogling.

Forcing himself to concentrate when Elizabeth lifted her pant leg to scratch her creamy, shapely calf, Jason nodded briskly. "Yeah, he's fine. Talks a lot, though."

"There's nothing wrong with that," she grinned, crinkling her nose in that adorable little way of hers.

Jason just rolled his eyes. "That's what you think." He laughed and ducked away when her small hand swatted his arm. They sat there together for a while, chatting amicably and Jason felt remarkably at ease with the spirited little brunette. He teased her about being hounded by a bunch of kindergarteners, and watched her through twinkling eyes when she bashfully explained that the kids were from the community center and that she and Emily always made time to hang out with them at least once a week.

A comfortable silence stretched between them for a moment, and neither felt the need to fill it in. Elizabeth let her eyes linger on Jason, starting from his long, nimble fingers and slowly drifting up his muscular arms to his strong chest and his devastatingly handsome face. When she thought about how far they had come from when they first met, Elizabeth knew it was nothing short of remarkable. They were sitting together and actually _talking_ – no more one word answers from her colleague. It was such a simple affair – to be filled in on the major events of his day – but it warmed Elizabeth's heart. They really had come a long way.

Her eyes darkened when she remembered their no-holds-barred make-out session in the kitchen, after which he had left her in a lurch – oh, he'd be regretting that, that was for sure. When Jason noticed the little smirk she wore, his sandy brows furrowed and Elizabeth almost wanted to laugh. The poor man really had _no_ idea what he was in for.

"Let's do something."

Her words broke the silence and Jason blinked at her. "What?"

"Let's do something," she repeated, leaning closer to him and tapping her toes on the cushions upon which they sat. "You. Me. Tonight. Let's do something."

His eyes helplessly followed the tip of her pink tongue as it swept over her full lips, and Jason had to shake himself out of it. Oh, he wanted to do _something_ with her tonight, all right. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "The roads are pretty much clear, right? Can we go out on your bike? Maybe grab some dinner? I don't know – something."

An idea slowly kicked up the corner of his mouth, and Jason's eyes twinkled. "Ok."

The surprise was evident on her face – it couldn't be that easy. "Okay?"

He nodded curtly and stood up. "Okay," he repeated. "I know what we can do."

She peered up at him from under curly raven lashes. "What? What are we going to do?"

He cocked his head, treating her to that boyish smile she recently discovered she loved so much. "Don't worry about it – just trust me."

Her heart jumped in her chest and Elizabeth wasn't about to admit that she didn't find his mysterious behavior alarmingly sexy. Jason Morgan was a take-charge kind of man – but that didn't mean he got to feel like he was in control _all _the time. "Okay," she smiled saucily up at him, a mischievous gleam in her dark eyes. She pushed herself up off the little bench and twirled around toward the stairwell, making sure to add a seductive little sway to her step. "Just let me get dressed and I'll be right with you, Morgan."

A rakish grin tugged on Jason's lips as he watched her sashay off to her room, and the tall mechanic began to hope suddenly that he knew what he was getting himself into.

* * *

"So this is Jake's, huh?"

Elizabeth's wide eyes swept around the dark little bar, taking in the handsome wooden chairs and the old jukebox in the corner before finally landing on the pool tables. Jason followed her with an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as he watched the men slowly snap to attention as the little brunette made her presence known. As if of their own volition, Jason's own eyes strayed over her tight form along with the rest of the drunks in the room – dressed in tight black jeans and a low-cut red sweater coupled with silver rings and a black choker finished off with leather boots, Elizabeth made quite the picture.

And judging from the thinly-veiled growls and cat-calls, he wasn't the only man that thought so. Jason had to bite back a groan when Elizabeth idly pulled her slender arms from the sleeves of his leather jacket. He had grabbed his newer one from his closet and offered her his favorite, worn one and Elizabeth had accepted immediately. And now she was folding that same leather jacket over her arms as she slowly paced to the center of the bar, her narrow hips swaying seductively to the beat of the music.

Several of the older men recognized Jason easily as one of the bouncers that sometimes guarded the joint, and upon realizing that Elizabeth was with him withdrew their gaze and retired themselves to idle fantasizing. Some of the younger ones, however, were bolder, and even went so far as to growl lewd comments at the young woman. Thankfully, Elizabeth didn't even hear more than half of the remarks and when she turned her back, Jason had a good three-second window to grab the young men by the shirts and threaten to break their hands if they looked at her again.

"I like it," she announced, turning back to him with a smile. "It's…cozy."

"Okay," he shrugged, crossing his meaty arms across his chest. "If you think so."

She just smirked at him and shook her head. "I can't believe I've never been here – I pass it all the time, and yet I never came inside."

"Well, it _is_ a bar," Jason reminded her. "And you _are_ underage."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped and her sapphire orbs flashed indignantly. "I am _not_ underage!"

Jason had to fight to suppress a grin. "Aren't you? You're not more than twenty, right?"

She wanted to hit him. "I turned twenty-one back in November!"

"Back in November, huh?" he repeated, rocking back on his heels and avoiding her eyes because he knew that if he looked at her he'd burst into a grin. "Damn, you're young."

Her small fist nailed him in the gut and Jason stumbled back a step, chuckling as she sputtered and fumed. "I am _not_ young, Jason Morgan! I'm twenty-one-and-a-half, I'll have you know, and that's old enough to vote and drink and go off to war and get married and all that – and I am NOT young!" Red-faced and still seething, her blazing eyes found his smug and amused one and as quickly as that, all the annoyance fizzled out of her body. "So how old are you?"

He lifted one shoulder in reply. "Almost thirty."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she clicked the heel of her leather boot against the floor as she pondered his response. "Wow," she sighed as she shifted her weight and slowly walked around him on her way to the bar. "You're old."

Stunned, Jason just stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and stalking over to the bar where Elizabeth was trying to figure out what to order from the austere-looking blonde matron after whom the establishment was named. "I am _not_ old," he replied witheringly, pulling himself onto the stool next to hers and glowering at her when she dared to smirk. "I'm not." She didn't reply, just shifted that firm little bottom of hers on the leather and shared an amused look with Jake. "Look," he tried to explain, "when I said _almost thirty_ I meant in about seven months, okay?"

"Sure, sure, Pops," she had the audacity to reply, smoothing her hand over his bicep soothingly and not even realizing what that innocent touch did to him. "Don't pop an artery." He muttered darkly under his breath and hunkered down at the counter, not pleased at all when Jake slid him a patronizing look.

"There's nothing wrong with being thirty."

Done with her teasing, Elizabeth slid him a tender sideways glance. "You don't _look_ thirty, you know."

He chuckled at that, a soft noise much like the rasping of sandpaper. "And what does thirty look like?"

"Well…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a polished index finger as she thought. "For one thing, you're supposed to start getting those little crows' feet around your eyes. And you get this little bulge at your abdomen-"

"I don't have a bulge," Jason frowned, clapping one strong hand over the defined muscles of his stomach.

He didn't notice the way her eyes drifted over to him, shamelessly examining his god-like body in the dim light. "No, you don't."

Jake had finished wiping down the glasses and now turned to them with her full attention. "Can I get you two anything to drink or are you going to sit here and carry on like biddies all night?"

Jason smirked at the older woman's humorless question and realized that he should probably introduce the two women. "Elizabeth, this is Jake – she owns the place. And Jake, this is Elizabeth." His eyes darted to her face before he croaked out, "She's a friend from Kelly's."

"It's nice to meet you," Elizabeth smiled brightly, half-rising in her stool to reach over the counter and shake Jake's rough hand. She didn't notice how Jason's eyes immediately devoured the expanse of creamy skin that was exposed from where her sweater rose as she leaned over the counter – but Jake sure did.

"What can I get you, Elizabeth?" she asked, wiping her hands on her dish towel.

The brunette nibbled her lip. "Gosh…I don't know. I don't really drink that often – I feel like I should be ordering something fruity or something with a funny name." Jake smirked in amusement. "You know, like…Martian Hard-On. Or Screaming Orgasm."

The older woman's eyes glittered when Jason practically choked on his own saliva.

Elizabeth's chocolate curls slipped past her ear and crowded her porcelain cheeks. "But it's almost embarrassing to say those names out loud. And how in the world can you even say 'Flying Purple People Eater' without blushing?-Answer me that, Jake."

The blonde matron was laughing heartily, thoroughly enjoying the tortured look on Jason's face as the brunette easily rattled off the explicit drinks. "I don't know, honey – maybe you'd better steer clear of those kinds of drinks."

"I think you're right," Elizabeth agreed. "But what should I get, then?"

"Two beers," Jason announced, tapping his knuckles on the bar. "Thanks, Jake."

He shook his head as the woman retrieved the frosty bottles, and Elizabeth turned her face so that he wouldn't see her wicked smile. She had to hand it to her squirming companion – coming to Jake's had been a fabulous idea.

* * *

"Am I lining it up right?"

Elizabeth shifted against the table, straining to get a better grip on the pool cue and to guide it toward the white ball. She was standing on her toes and felt awkwardly suspended over the table as she tried to attain an angle that would allow her the most leverage over the balls.

Jason stood behind her, thinking that he must have really pissed someone upstairs off to deserve this. Try as he would, he just couldn't seem to lift his eyes from her denim-covered derriere. His eyes just _would not_ comply.

She wiggled slightly over the edge of the table, getting frustrated. "Oh, hell – I'm too short, right? It's because I'm short, isn't it?"

A smile tugged on his lips and Jason smoothly rolled forward, bending with her and placing his hands over hers. Finding herself suddenly ensconced in his warm embrace, Elizabeth looked up and blinked at him in surprise. But when Jason stared into her sapphire eyes, he saw nothing that indicated that she was affected by his impulsive action. Instead, she just smiled cheerily and accepted his guidance. He helped her line up the shot, covering her small hands with his and showing her how to get the best angle. They were pressed together from shoulder to thigh, and Elizabeth's bottom was nestled in the cradle of his strong thighs and yet the little brunette still didn't show any signs of embarrassment or discomfort.

And Jason was beginning to seriously doubt his own sex appeal.

He coached her through one game and then she insisted they actually play an official one. Jason won easily, knowing that if he let her win he would never hear the end of it; Elizabeth was clearly the type of woman that wasn't looking for any favors from anyone.

She slid off the edge of the pool table and tossed him her cue before retrieving her purse from the table. "I'm going to go to the bathroom; I'll be right back."

He nodded as he put the cues back in place and motioned for two more beers. She slipped away into the shadows toward the bathroom, giving Jason a chance to admire her retreating her form. The evening was going fairly well – just not for him. He didn't know why it bothered him that Elizabeth wasn't the least bit flustered around him; in all actuality, it shouldn't. After all, he was the one that told her he didn't want a relationship, and she had told him the same thing the next day. He had been perfectly willing to accept her offer of friendship, and there was no reason that he should be displeased that things were actually progressing well and they were at ease with each other.

And yet he was beginning to rethink his old stance.

The thought was troubling; he _couldn't_ want more from Elizabeth Webber. Not after what had happened between them in the kitchen. Not after the way he had hurt her. And especially not after she declared that she only wanted friendship from him. He didn't want to send her mixed signals, after all. Hell, he didn't want to send _himself_ mixed signals. Feeling anything more than friendship for Elizabeth was out of the question; he simply couldn't go that route.

And it wasn't so bad – the place they were at now. She was comfortable around him and she had no problem talking to him. Sure, they teased each other and he still made fun of her for being so loud and animated, but it was all in jest. He enjoyed walking into Kelly's every morning and either seeing her straightening the chairs or rushing off to school, and he enjoyed taking his breaks with her. They had a comfortable relationship now, and he did like it. But it was just that one nagging doubt – the doubt that something was still lurking, waiting to be resolved between them – that troubled him.

He shook his head to clear it as he retrieved their beers. Jason didn't even wait for Elizabeth's return before cracking open his bottle and taking a long pull. He was being ridiculous. He had gone from knowing he couldn't have Elizabeth to foolishly trying anyway, and now that things had balanced out he was right back there – wanting something he just couldn't have. That was what he'd do – every time that doubt got the best of him, he'd remind himself how different they were. She deserved better than someone like him.

But there was no reason he couldn't enjoy their newfound friendship – provided that he didn't let it progress any further.

He tapped his nails against the clean counter and didn't even notice as Jake sidled up in front of him. The matronly woman leaned her elbows on the shining surface and quirked a brow at him, and Jason sat up in surprise. He instantly understood the amused gleam in her pale eyes and scowled.

"Not a word, Jake."

The woman's smug smile grew and she cupped her chin, relentless in her quest to make him squirm.

Jason slammed a fist down onto the counter, rattling the two beer bottles. "Damn it, Jake-"

"I didn't say a word," she reminded him glibly. "But now that you mention it, I have to ask…what's a little thing like that doing with a man like you?"

The mechanic's sandy brows furrowed. "I don't know what you mean."

Jake rolled her gray eyes. "Don't get cute, Morgan – I've seen the trash you drag in here." When he opened his mouth to protest, she silenced him with a quick glare. "And that little number in the bathroom over there – she's not like any of them. So what's the story?"

Much to her amazement, the young man shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't meant to embarrass him; that much was the truth. And while Jason Morgan was no gigolo, she had seen the women he usually had on his arm – tall, blonde, well-endowed, and usually scantily-clad. Granted, there had only been a couple in the long time that she'd known him, but the only thing they had in common with Elizabeth was the rate the words came out of their mouths.

The little brunette that had occupied the entirety of Jason's attention since the minute they walked in through the door was different – that much was obvious. She was tiny – quite petite – and actually seemed to have a brain. She chattered in abundance, to be sure, but there seemed to be some sort of rational thought behind the constructed thoughts which was more than Jake could say for Jason's past girlfriends. She knew he was a man and that he had his own needs, but in all the time she had known Jason Morgan, Jake had known that he was not the kind of man to settle down. She wasn't even sure he believed in love or marriage or the white picket fence and 2.5 kids.

And that was what made her extremely suspicious about the introduction of the petite little brunette – just what was Jason up to?

"There's no story," he finally replied. "You know I've been working at my Aunt Bobbie's diner since the garage was destroyed." Jake nodded and he continued. "She's one of the waitresses there – has been since high school. She works about four days a week including weekends and goes to PCU three days a week – art major. We've been working together since I started there and we're just friends."

"Mm-hmm," Jake drawled sarcastically. "So why do I get the feeling that if I asked you, you could rattle off her pet peeves, her childhood nickname, and her favorite color M&M?"

Jason could only scowl at the question even as the word _Lizbits_ echoed in his head. "We're just friends, Jake. That's all."

The woman smirked mischievously and was about to retort when she heard muffled cries coming from the dark hallway that led to the bathrooms. Soon, Elizabeth's voice was clear, and Jake's eyes widened when she recognized the anger and fear in the little brunette's cries. "Jason-" Her hand reached for him but he had already leapt to his feet. "Jason, you'd better go see what-"

She didn't even have to finish her sentence; Jason was already off. He was a few paces from the little hallway when Elizabeth stumbled back, followed by two guys. The younger one had his broad hands on her hips and was clearly drunk. He backed her up against the wall, pinning her there with his hips as she slapped his chest, wriggling to get enough freedom to knee him in the groin.

Jason's blood boiled when he saw the man's hands pass gropingly over Elizabeth's taut stomach and that was when he sprung into action. The young man couldn't even blink before Jason's strong hand was on his shoulder, wrenching him backwards and sending him sprawling with a swift crack to the jaw.

His friend, who reached for Elizabeth when she reflexively let out a scream, wasn't prepared for what was coming his way. Jason kneed him in the stomach the instant his dirty hand closed around her elbow and a strong blow to his back sent him crashing to the floor.

The two beatings were all it took for Jake's bar to erupt. Men kicked over their chairs as they rushed for Jason and Elizabeth to teach them a lesson. The smarter ones – the ones that knew who Jason was – came running to help him out. Elizabeth squeaked as men threw blows and chairs to her right and to her left, backing up against the wall until there was nowhere to go.

Her eyes frantically scanned the melee for Jason, but she couldn't find him. Panic licked at the back of her throat as she saw one man break a beer bottle across another man's head – what if Jason was hurt? What would she do?

A man crashed into her and she leaped away, her limbs trembling as she renewed her efforts to find him. The men that had recognized Jason and knew she was with him tried to steer her to safety, but they also had other problems on their hands – namely, trying not to get their skulls bashed in.

Elizabeth let out a groan when her ribs slammed into the jukebox and was afraid for a moment that she'd cause it to tip over. Steadying herself, she was about to turn and edge for the door when an arm wrapped securely around her waist.

And Elizabeth couldn't help it – she screamed.

"Elizabeth." A harsh voice met her ears and she looked up, startled, to meet Jason's stormy cerulean orbs. His arm tightened around her waist before his grip was loosened by the drunk man that had just tried to topple him over. One of his friends grabbed the drunk and sent him to the floor with a swift hand to the neck, and then nodded to the mechanic. "Jason – get her out of here! Go!"

His long fingers wrapped around her wrist and he almost lifted her up when he slid an arm tightly around her tiny waist, anchoring her to his side. Shouldering his way roughly through the churning crowd of brutes, he tipped his head at his friends in gratitude and only breathed a sigh of relief when the frigid night air rushed to greet him and Elizabeth as they ducked outside.

She was still too stunned to speak and remained silent as he dragged her over to the bike where he quickly scanned her for injuries. His fingers gently speared through her silky hair, his palms cradling her cheeks, as he searched for any cuts or bruises, and Elizabeth shivered when his broad hands rubbed up and down her arms. She hissed sharply when his fingertips prodded her ribs and without a second thought, Jason jerked her sweater up to investigate, swearing when he saw the yellow-and-purple stains across her alabaster skin.

Wordlessly, he handed her the helmet and waited for her to pull it on. When it was secured, he practically hoisted her onto the bike before climbing on himself and taking off into the night as the engine roared angrily beneath them.

* * *

She felt sick.

Jason's grip was like an iron hand, clenching her small hand in his so hard that it almost hurt. But she wasn't about to complain. The anger radiated off of him in waves, and that muscle in his tightly clenched jaw had been ticking ever since he'd parked his bike and gotten off. And now they were walking across the docks back to Kelly's, his fingers twined with hers in a gesture that felt like a bear-trap.

Her stomach rolled as she tried to force herself to speak. He was _so_ angry. She could feel it. He hadn't said a word to her after getting her into the parking lot, and he didn't seem like he'd be saying anything soon.

Oh, God, he was _so_ angry.

Jason's footsteps thundered across the wooden planks as he half-dragged her up the steps. They cut through the alley and he growled darkly at the raccoon that dared to scuffle past, scaring them for an instant before making its presence known. He stalked across the little cobbled walkway that led to Kelly's and wrestled his keys from his pocket.

He didn't bother flipping on the lights as he pulled her inside, letting the door slam behind them. Her voice died on her lips as he tugged on her hand and led her toward the stairs. They climbed in silence. She stumbled once, still feeling a little disoriented, and his strong arm wrapped around her waist to support her and they resumed their climb.

He had her keys in his hand and jammed the jagged silver metal into the lock, flipping on the light with a brisk flip of his wrist and ushering her in. After mumbling an almost incoherent "goodnight", Jason slipped out into the dark hallway and closed the door quietly.

Elizabeth remained standing in the middle of the room staring at the shut door and listening to the sound of his footsteps as he thundered down the stairs. She heard the front door to the diner slam and then she heard the angry sputter of his bike as he revved the engine and took off.

The strength in her body seemed to depart as the roar of the motorcycle faded off into the distance and Elizabeth collapsed onto her blue comforter. Without even bothering to look at the clock, she reached for her phone and hit her first speed dial button. Her chin quivered as the phone rang, and then a cross and slurred voice met her ears.

"Do you have any idea what time it is? I swear, you must have gotten laid tonight and decided to call me during the post-coital cigarette break because I'm going to break your-"

Tears crept into her eyes as Elizabeth fell sideways onto her bed, not even bothering to clear her hair away from her face. "Em?"

The voice on the other end of the line sobered instantly. _"Elizabeth? Sweetie? What is it? What's wrong?"_

She choked on a small sob. "I think I screwed everything up."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter 11**

Jason winced as the hot coffee burned its way down his raw throat, coughing slightly into his sleeve. It was almost closing time at Kelly's and he couldn't wait to get out of there. Two days had gone by since he and Elizabeth had gone out 'looking for trouble', as the brunette had put it, at Jake's. Two long days of avoiding her and being absolutely miserable.

And the part that scared him most was that maybe – just maybe – the 'avoidance' had something to do with the 'miserable'.

There were only two couples sitting in the diner enjoying their dinner, and he didn't think any others would be coming in. If they did, he was tempted to beat them back with the broom. Because right now, he wasn't in the mood to do anything but go home and fall into bed.

Jason wiped his running nose on the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket and took another gulp of his coffee. Normally, he didn't drink coffee at night but he'd made an exception since his throat was hurting so damn much. Just twenty more minutes…

He shifted behind the counter, instantly realizing his mistake when his right arm protested bitterly. He was still slightly sore from the fight at Jake's – one round just hadn't been good enough that night. After dropping Elizabeth home, he had raced back there to check on his friends and the bar.

Jake had been sitting behind the counter popping peanuts into her mouth, utterly bored as the fight continued to rage in front of her. Jason had come back and helped his friends throw the drunks out on their asses. Unfortunately, the man that had groped Elizabeth had passed out long ago – otherwise, Jason would have given him something that hurt ten times worse than a bad hangover.

He still couldn't believe he had brought Elizabeth to that dive in the first place.

The memory of the fear in her eyes as she struggled against that brute made him cringe and curse himself again. She never should have been in that position – he should have been with her. She was under his protection that night and she still got hurt. Disrespected by some two-bit little punk that couldn't hold his liquor.

His fist met the counter with a dull thud, and the dining couples looked up in surprise and annoyance. But when they saw the dark look on Jason's face, they quickly hunkered down over their food again, perfectly willing to ignore him.

That night had been just another cruel reminder of why a girl like that didn't belong anywhere near a man like him – a man that led her into dangerous situations and brought her to rough crowds. Trouble always followed him – it had since he was a scrappy little kid getting into fights at school – and Elizabeth didn't belong anywhere near that. She was smart and talented and compassionate, and she deserved nothing short of the best. And the best was something Jason just wasn't and never would be.

He had let himself believe that an innocent friendship was possible and within his reach; he had let himself believe in that idyllic little fantasy without even thinking of it from Elizabeth's perspective. Being friends with him meant being susceptible to exactly what had happened at Jake's – even if he tried his best, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay clear of occurrences like that. That was who he was; that was the crowd he had formed connections with long ago. That was his job. That was his company. That was his life.

That was him.

And that was exactly what Elizabeth didn't need.

He glanced at the clock, wiping his forehead with the back of one sweaty hand. Ten minutes left. It was really hot in the cramped little diner, and so Jason retreated into the kitchen for some space. Despite the fact that it was less than thirty degrees outside, he cracked the window open and gulped in the frigid night air. He just couldn't _wait_ to get out of here.

Jason was pretty willing to bet that he wouldn't be running into Elizabeth tonight. She had run off to school in the morning – he had cloistered himself safely away in the kitchen until he heard the front door of the diner slam shut – and she usually headed to her studio on school days. She'd be back later the following morning for her shift the next day, and he'd only have to deal with her then. And he was banking on the fact that she'd be as eager to avoid him as he was her. Hopefully.

This time, he'd do it right. Things were fine the way they were; the two of them would barely exchange a few meaningful sentences all day and then he was out of there. He should never have let it progress to something more. This time, he'd do it right – this time, he wouldn't let her get close. He'd let that happen and seen the results. No, Elizabeth would be much better off if he stepped back and let things go back to the way they used to be.

He closed the window and backed away from it, pulling at the neck of his sweater that suddenly felt way too thick. Just his freaking luck – he was getting sick. Aunt Bobbie would _never_ let him hear the end of it. Jason cringed, almost able to hear her high-pitched shriek of concern. _"Oh, Jason, I told you that you would get sick! Riding around on that metal death trap with nothing to shield you from the elements! That's just inviting pneumonia!"_ Yeah, he definitely didn't want to be caught sick near her.

His head was pounding as he reached for another cup of coffee. Thinking better of it, Jason glanced at the clock and noticing that he had a good ten minutes left, set about making himself some hot tea instead. That would probably do him better than the coffee – after all, he had guzzled down about five cups of the stuff in the last two hours and still felt like shit.

He had finished about half of his tea when he noticed that his shift was over and had been over for about ten minutes while he had been too comatose to notice. The diner was empty and since the girls had volunteered to do closing for him for a week, he was done. They'd probably be down in a couple of minutes to sweep and mop and do the dishes, and he had never been so grateful – because that meant that he could go home and rest.

But the thought of going out into the cold night on his motorcycle and zipping down those slick roads was less than appealing – and a warm, cozy little diner and a half-cup of lukewarm tea was suddenly more than appealing. With a low growl, Jason hunkered down on the red leather stool at the counter and lifted his mug to his lips to drain the last of his tea. Just five more minutes. Five more minutes and then he'd put on his jacket and his gloves and go out into the freezing night.

The five minutes soon turned into fifteen, and finally Jason had run out of things to do to procrastinate his departure. With a sigh, he dropped his cup in the sink and turned around a little too fast, as evidenced by the sudden wave of vertigo that washed over him. So determined was he not to topple to the floor that in his intense concentration, he entirely missed the merry jingle of bells as the front door opened.

Elizabeth stepped into Kelly's dressed in her white knit skullcap and long red coat that Jason secretly adored, and her dark sapphire eyes instantly fell on the stooped man by the counter.

"Oh! Jason!" Dropping her messenger bag and textbook on the nearest table, the tiny brunette immediately flew to his side as Jason tried to shake his head clear of a dense fog that was obscuring his thoughts, not to mention his balance. "Hey, hey – you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine," he got out, steadying himself and trying to stand to his full height. That move proved to be a mistake when the room tilted once more, and Elizabeth's surprisingly strong grip kept him from sinking to the floor.

"No, you're not," she frowned, strengthening her grip on him as she tried to ease him over to the red stools. "Here, lean on me – I'm a lot stronger than I look."

If he hadn't felt like he'd been run over by a truck, Jason would have laughed. A thin wisp of a girl was telling him that she was stronger than she looked? It really was quite amusing. "I'm fine-"

"What is it with men and always saying that?" she huffed, quickly taking off her red mittens and dropping them on the counter. The diner was nice and warm and she immediately shucked her coat and threw it over her shoulder at a chair located somewhere behind her. His skin was ablaze when she touched it, but then again, her hands were cold. Thinking better of it, she gently cupped his face and brought his forehead to press against her cheek.

The sweet and innocent gesture shocked Jason, who could actually feel himself melt at her touch, and the tall mechanic closed his eyes as her smooth skin pressed up against his face.

"Oh, Jason, you're burning up!" The concern and fear were evident in her voice, and before he knew what was happening, Elizabeth's arms were around him again, pulling him to his feet.

"Elizabeth, what-" His voice was slurred and thick and he didn't like it. Frowning, he tried again. "Where are we going-"

"I'm taking you upstairs," she declared in a tight voice that left little room for argument. "You're running a temperature, Jason, and I'm not sending you back to Jake's like this. You're going upstairs and you're going to lie down."

That didn't sound good. "Elizabeth, I don't have a room here-"

"Oh, big deal," she huffed, abandoning her futile task of pulling him up by the hands and instead stepping up to wrap her arms around his waist and tugging him up that way. "Your aunt runs the joint – don't give me that crap about not having a room. You heard Bobbie, Jason – you _always _have a room here." She quirked one perfectly plucked eyebrow at him humorlessly and even in his burning haze, Jason didn't miss the way her enchanting eyes sparkled. "Do I have to call her, Jason, and have her corroborate that? In fact, I'm sure that she'd be over here in a hurry if she heard that her precious nephew-"

"Don't call her," he sputtered, staggering to his feet with her help. "She'll never leave and I'll never hear the end of it."

"Smart man," she smirked, allowing herself a moment to gently stroke his rough cheek before drawing back and helping him toward the stairs. "There's an empty room upstairs next to mine and you're going to take it for the night, Morgan – no arguments."

He didn't argue – at this point, he had already figured that it would get him absolutely nowhere – and climbed up the stairs with her arm latched securely around his waist. Her body was pressed up against his as she tried to make sure he didn't trip or stumble, and the heat upon contact burned him right down to the bone. Somehow, they arrived at the top of the landing and Elizabeth led him to the vacant room next to her own.

She had grabbed the spare keys before helping him up and she now jingled through them, trying to hurry it up so he could get inside and rest, but her haste ended up hindering her action. Letting out an endearing crow of triumph when she found the right one, the tiny brunette shifted her hold on his waist, bringing their hips crashing together, and jammed the jagged silver metal into the lock. It opened easily and she flicked on the lights with her wrist before kicking the door open farther and helping him inside.

The fever was making him sweat now, and Jason couldn't remember the last time he had been so uncomfortable – or the last time a bed had looked so damn good. Elizabeth made sure the heating vents were operating and that the windows were properly closed and locked as Jason grasped the blankets and sheets and pulled them back with one good tug. Elizabeth's back was still turned when he pulled the hem of his sweater out of the waistband of his jeans, but the brunette turned around just in time to see him whisk the oppressive article of clothing over his head, revealing perfectly chiseled abs and a chest she wouldn't mind licking until the fever went down. Now _that_ was a cold compress, all right.

He didn't seem to notice as he scrubbed one strong hand over his eyes, trying to dull the throbbing ache between his temples. Swallowing roughly and reminding herself that she couldn't let on how perfectly lickable she thought he was, Elizabeth moved forward and scooped his sweater up from the bed, folding it quickly and throwing it on a chair before turning down the sheets properly.

Jason undid the button of his jeans before the tall blonde seemed to notice that not only did he still have a companion in the room, but that companion was a woman. Seeing the hesitant look in his eyes, Elizabeth waved away his concern and turned her back, allowing him a moment to drop his pants and fall into bed.

Certain that he was covered, she turned around to find him half under the blankets, groaning softly as he pressed his meaty forearm over his eyes. Apparently, he thought that growling would ease his headache.

Shaking her head, she dropped his jeans on the same chair she had thrown his sweater onto, and promptly excused herself to get some water. Jason heard her leave the room, gently closing the door behind her so that the bright light from the hallway wouldn't shine directly in his eyes. The water was running and he assumed she was in the bathroom, grabbing a couple hand towels and filling a basin with cold water. He had to hand it to his petite coworker – whenever he needed her, she turned into a regular Florence Nightingale. And as much as she babied him, Jason had to admit rather sheepishly that he almost appreciated him – no one ever fussed about him quite the way Elizabeth did. Sure, his aunt worried and fretted along with the best of them – but then again, Bobbie certainly wasn't a five-foot-two ballerina with sparkling blue eyes and the most sinful lips he'd ever seen. Elizabeth definitely had the edge over his loving aunt when certain things were concerned.

But what bothered him most about the situation he currently found himself in was that Elizabeth had no reason to help him. He didn't deserve her help, not after how he had shut her out that night and then done his best to steer clear of her. He'd totally cut her off without a word or an apology, and Jason knew that he himself would never tolerate such rudeness from someone else. Not only did Elizabeth seem to tolerate it, but she seemed to have forgiven it. And now she was here, after a long day of classes and homework, taking care of him.

He just didn't deserve it.

Hell, he didn't deserve her, either, but that had become somewhat of an axiom in his current formal system, the one fundamental truth upon which everything else was built.

"Hey." Her voice was as soft and gentle as her caresses as Elizabeth poked her head back into the dimly lit room, a washbasin full of water in her hands and a few hand towels slung over her wrist. "How you holding up, Tiger?"

He muttered something under his breath as she set the water down and pulled a thermometer out. Even in his hazy state of consciousness, Jason still felt her light touch warm him inside as she gently swept his hands away from his face, stroking the rough skin for a moment before she uncapped the thermometer. His eyes were closed when her intoxicating scent of sensual jasmine wafted over him, and the older man inhaled deeply, hoping all the while that she didn't notice.

Elizabeth was leaning down now, pressing her cheek against his forehead once more to check his fever. He was just as hot and she cursed under her breath as she coaxed him to accept the thermometer.

"You keep that under your tongue," she ordered sternly, wagging a finger at him. "And I'll see what I can do about cooling you off."

Now that sounded intriguing – especially considering the fact that up until now, she had only been adding heat to the burning fire that had consumed his body. Jason watched out of one open eye as she dipped a small towel in the cool water and wrung it out before laying it gently down on his forehead. The cool wetness seemed to soak in through his skin immediately and Jason couldn't help letting out a small sigh of relief.

The soft murmur brought a gentle smile to the brunette's lips. Her fingers stroked the damp hair at his temples as she asked quietly, "Better?"

He could only nod, eyes still closed, and her thumb gently stroked the length of his jaw. She shouldn't have to do this – she shouldn't have to sit next to him and take care of him. He should never have accepted her help; she was exceeding the boundaries of compassion and concern by taking care of him, and he felt enough like a rat as it was.

Her slim fingers pulled the thermometer out of his mouth and Elizabeth let out a little gasp when she saw his temperature. Nervously tucking her hair behind her ears, the brunette dropped it on the nightstand and reached for another towel. This one she didn't wring out as well, and then brought the dripping cloth to Jason's chest. He shuddered at first when the cool water met his scorching skin, but Elizabeth's small hand passing over his cheek quieted him down.

Jason's eyes were closed the whole while, giving Elizabeth a good opportunity to study the man she was tending to. Her dark eyes passed over his strong features, the tan skin now flushed with fever, the well-formed muscles that rippled with every movement. She passed the wet cloth over his chest, leaving fat droplets in its wake, and Jason moaned low in his throat. It was amazing to watch, utterly fascinating for her – this strong, potent, dangerously sexy man melting at her touch. It was invigorating and flattering and…a damn turn-on.

She wet the cloth again and swept it over his strong chest, the perfect muscles she ached to touch, his shoulders, the heated flesh of his neck. Jason's lashes fluttered and he slowly opened his eyes. The few minutes of rest he had snatched under her ministrations seemed to have done him a little bit of good because he shifted around a little as she fixed his makeshift cold compress. Hopefully, if she kept this up a bit longer, she'd see his temperature decrease.

Jason's strong arm twitched and as Elizabeth was about to skim the dripping towel over his chest again, his lean fingers wrapped around her wrist. She looked at him in surprise and could see the grim determination in his slightly unfocused eyes.

"Elizabeth." There it was, that gruff little growl he had used that night at Jake's when he had all but picked her up and taken her out. Her lips pursed into a thin line, Elizabeth squeezed a trickle of water onto his chest and passed the towel over his skin with his hand still on her wrist.

"What is it?"

She missed the brief flicker of pain in his magical eyes. "Y-You don't have to do this. I can take care of myself."

Her movements stilled but her hand remained on his chest, and Jason's remained on hers. Their gazes locked and held for a long moment as they both just peered into each others' eyes, and finally Elizabeth spoke.

Jason watched her avert her gaze and tuck a lock of hair behind the shell of her ear, and then her soft, wavery voice met his ears. "Look, Jason, I know you're mad at me because I started that fight at Jake's, but I also know that you're in no shape to-"

"Wait, wait." That got his attention right there and the tall mechanic managed to push himself up on his elbows, ignoring the pounding in his skull. "Elizabeth, you – you think I'm mad at you?"

"Aren't you?" she asked sadly, dropping the wadded up towel on the nightstand and wringing her fingers in her lap. "You didn't even want to do anything that night but I kept pushing you, and then I started a fight and got your friends in trouble and ruined Jake's bar, and you got hurt and all because I couldn't hold off some horny-"

His hand closed over hers, squeezing hard, and Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut at the ferocity of his sudden gesture. Her hesitant eyes met his stormy and intense ones, and it didn't take a genius to see that Jason Morgan was pissed. Royally pissed. And once again, at her.

But his next words surprised her. "Elizabeth, I was _never_ mad at _you_."

The brunette stared at him in disbelief, those impossibly blue eyes wide and as starry as always. But when Jason winced in discomfort, she immediately leaned forward and helped to ease him back down onto the soft pillows. Using their proximity to his advantage, Jason latched onto her tiny hand and pulled her close.

"Listen to me, Elizabeth," he whispered in a voice as rough as sandpaper. "You need to understand something. I was _never_ mad at you; it wasn't your fault that-" He didn't want to repeat the incidents of that night. "It wasn't your fault. So don't you dare think for a minute that it was."

"But I…I caused a huge fight," she reminded him, doing her best to blink away the tears that surfaced at the memory of that humiliating night. "You got hurt, your friends got hurt, Jake's bar was destroyed-"

"A bruise here and there isn't a big deal," he smiled softly up at her. "And don't worry about my friends – they're used to this sort of thing. As for Jake, she's got the whole place insured down to the peanuts in the spitback bowl – she's had to, given how many fights happen in any given week."

"But-" Furious with herself, she brought the back of her hand up to swipe away a tear that had managed to tumble down her cheek. Frowning his concern, Jason reached up as well and gently swept another away with the pad of his thumb. She was suspended over his naked chest, so close that she could smell his cologne and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if she had a fever herself, given the sudden spike in temperature she experienced. "But when we came back, you were so mad-"

He sighed with guilt and frustration, raking one hand through his wild spikes. "I-I know. I'm sorry about that, Elizabeth. I-I never meant to do that, I never meant to shut you out like that." His eyes were wide and honest, imploring her to believe him. "I just hated that you got hurt because of me."

Those perfect, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Because of _you_?-"

"I shouldn't have brought you there," he got out, wincing when his raw throat constricted painfully.

"I asked you to," she reminded him sadly. "I was bugging you to-"

"You weren't bugging me," Jason replied, quirking her that boyish grin she loved her so much. "You don't bug me, Elizabeth."

"Can I get that in writing?" she teased, rearranging his cold compress. "I'd like to take it down to the Patent Office and have it notarized."

He just rolled his eyes. "If you remember, _I_ was the one that suggested going to Jake's. And I wouldn't have gone anywhere with you if I didn't want to." Her eyes sparkled slightly at his reassurance, but then reality bared itself again. "You got hurt because I turned my back for a minute. Something worse could have happened to you, Elizabeth – he could have-"

"He didn't," she cut in, brushing his now wet hair back and away from his forehead. "You were there."

Jason sighed with frustration, rubbing his eyes groggily. "I didn't bring you there to get hurt and scared, Elizabeth-"

"So why did you bring me there?" There was genuine curiosity in her voice now – she just had to know.

The older man blinked up at her. "I…I brought you there so we could have a drink or two, shoot some pool, have some fun. Just hang out, as you're always telling me we should."

She grinned down at him, her fingers lingering now on his flushed cheek. "Sounds like it would have been fun."

"It was fun, though, wasn't it?" he just couldn't help asking. "I mean, before the fight. We were…having fun, right?"

Amusement shone through her enchanting sapphire eyes. "Yes, Jason, we were having a _lot _of fun." She sucked her breath in quickly and paused for a moment before adding, "We should do it again sometime."

That had a sobering effect on the mechanic. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Elizabeth," he replied softly. "I don't want you to get hurt again."

She rolled her eyes, poking him roughly right in the middle of his chest. "So you're one of those guys that likes to keep his gal all locked up and sittin' pretty just because he's afraid she'll break a nail? Nice, Morgan – that's real nice."

He was eyeing her suspiciously. "You're my gal?"

It took every shred of concentration in her to keep herself composed and not melt at that question – so much so that she entirely missed the hopeful note in his voice. "You know what I mean, Jason – your gal, your pal, your friend."

He nodded quickly – too quickly. "Oh. Yeah. Sure." An awkward silence followed and Elizabeth busied herself with fixing the towel on his forehead. "Elizabeth?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry I was so…quiet afterwards."

She sighed softly, meeting his gaze directly and without flinching. "It's okay. I…I was kinda upset afterwards because I thought you were mad at me for messing everything up and cutting the evening short."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, not at all. I'm sorry you thought I was."

Elizabeth nodded seriously down at him. "Tell you what? How 'bout we make a deal?"

Jason coughed into his fist before clearing his throat and replying. "What kind of deal?"

"Well, I know you get mad a lot, Jason. You're a grouch." He frowned hard at her, but she didn't even pretend to care, instead just smirking down at her patient. "So how about when you're mad at me – rather than mad at stuff –"

"_Stuff_?"

"Stay with me, Morgan. When you're mad at _me_ specifically, how about instead of ignoring me and storming around, you write me a note."

"A note?" He was looking at her like it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "And what the hell is this note supposed to say?"

"Nothing poetic," she assured him playfully. "A simple 'I'm very mad at you' will be fine – no expletives, though, Morgan; we have to keep our G rating."

He rolled his eyes, certain that in his mind, the G rating had been lost long ago as far as he and Elizabeth were concerned.

"That way," she continued, "I'll know when _I_ did something wrong and I can promptly begin to make it up to you."

There was a sexy, flirtatious note in her voice unless he had imagined it – which he was certain he did – and Jason just eyed her as his headache raged on. "Fine."

"Good."

A long silence lingered until Jason broke it.

"So…how exactly would you make it up to me?"

She grinned instantly, wondering in the back of her mind if he was flirting around but quickly dismissing the thought as utterly ridiculous. "Well…I'd stop singing showtunes, for one thing."

"That's always a plus."

"You're lucky you're sick, otherwise I'd pinch you," she informed him seriously. "And…let's see…I'd keep the hysterics to a minimum."

"Sounds good," he murmured softly as she fixed the towel on his forehead. "What else will you do if I'm mad at you?"

Her face was alarmingly close to his, her sapphire orbs dazzling, and a suddenly impulsive Elizabeth took the moment to tweak his nose with hers before pulling away and reaching for the water. "You'll know when the opportunity presents itself."

He just smirked as she struggled with a bag of cough drops, trying to rip it open. The girl was too adorable for her own good, and he had long ago stopped chastising himself for thinking so. Denying her beauty was like denying his next breath – as much as it sometimes bothered him, there was no mistaking how his body reacted to her. Or his mind, for that moment – the girl had elicited more X-rated dreams from him than any other single girl had ever managed. And he'd only kissed her once.

"So…are we good?"

Her bangs fell in her eyes, making her look years younger, and her full lips curved into an easy smile he had recently realized she graced only a chosen few with. "We're good, Jason."

"Okay. Good."

"Or, actually," she amended, finally opening the stubborn plastic bag and setting a few cough drops on his night stand. "We _will_ be good if you take it easy and get some rest. And remember – you're not going anywhere, Morgan. I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of your motorcycle, okay?"

"Fine," he huffed, secretly knowing that he'd rather do anything than go out into the freezing night right now anyway.

"And you're staying here 'til you get better," she persisted. "And I mean a hundred-percent better, Jason. Promise?"

He normally held off on making promises to women – they could only get you into trouble – but for some reason this felt easier. "Promise."

"Good." She fixed his compress again out of habit and brushed his wet hair back tenderly. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, you sit tight while I get you some soup – it'll fix you right up." The wind picked up outside, whistling through the shutters and as Elizabeth looked up in surprise at the eerie noise, Jason took a moment to unabashedly stare at her. Somehow, he had found himself in her good graces again – and all thoughts about extricating her from his life instantly flew to the back of his mind. He'd just have to be a bit more careful, that was all.

She was standing now, her fingers tucked into the back pockets of her adorable, low-riding jeans, and her lips were puckered in thought. "Hey, Jason?"

For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off those ready-to-be-kissed pink lips. "Huh?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Where – Where did you go…afterwards?"

"After I dropped you off here?"

"Yeah."

He sighed softly, running a hand through his golden spikes again. "I…went back to Jake's."

"Why?"

Those heart-stopping, silver-blue eyes met hers directly. "You want the honest answer?"

"Always."

"I wanted to find the jackass that touched you and beat the living shit out of him – make sure that another part of his body hurt worse than his head in the morning."

Elizabeth pressed a hand over her heart as a watery smile ran across her lips, and in an instant, she was bending down toward him again, her hands braced on either side of his head. Jason blinked in surprise when her hair tickled his neck, and he was sure his heart was pounding like a jackhammer when she pressed her lips hard to his forehead.

"Jason Morgan, you are such an ape," she chuckled, kissing his warm skin again. "But that's the sweetest thing I've heard in a very long time."

Flashing him a brilliant smile, the brunette practically danced out of the room on those incredible ballerina legs of hers, leaving Jason to stare after her petite form in something akin to shock. On the plus side, she had kissed him. On the down side, it had been on his forehead and was immediately followed with a comment about how "sweet" he was. Sweet was for licorice and puppy dogs – certainly nothing even remotely close to what was going on in his head when he thought about her, that was sure.

Sweet.

Yeah, he was screwed.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Note:** I know the sexual tension is crazy here, and I promise all of this leads up somewhere; it's not just me being mean to you guys and Jason, although you're free to call me evil if you like anyway.

**Chapter 12**

"Here comes the choo-choo train! Choo-choo! Choo-choo!"

Jason eyed the spoonful of chicken noodle soup Elizabeth held with blatant disgust. "You really hate me, don't you?"

The brunette grinned cheekily at him, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter. "Choo-choo-"

"You do that one more time and I'll-"

"You'll _what_, Morgan?" she challenged, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He watched her tilt her head cockily when he offered no reply. "That's what I thought. Now eat your soup before I make more choo-choo noises."

"I can't," he moaned, throwing one arm over his eyes. "I can't eat any more."

Elizabeth frowned, dropping the spoon back in the bowl and setting it on the nightstand. "Jason, it's your lunch. You have to eat something-"

"I'm sick of soup. That's all you've given me since last night."

"Soup is the best thing when you have a fever," she informed him, reaching for the thermometer. "How do you expect to get better when you won't do what I tell you? Open your mouth."

He complied and pouted up at her as she shoved the thermometer in his mouth. The brunette was dressed in a short miniskirt that barely poked out from under the Kelly's apron she wore, and she had shoved the long sleeves of her pink-and-violet striped oxford shirt up to her elbows. She was currently on her lunch break and instead of taking that time to eat and decompress from the crazy breakfast hours, she was up in his room trying to take care of him. And as guilty as he felt about being such a burden, it still wasn't enough to make him want to finish his soup.

She sighed at the thermometer reading and put it back in its slim case. "You've still got a temperature, but the good news is that it's not as bad as it was this morning."

He gulped and winced as his throat burned, still stubborn in his anti-soup stance. "Elizabeth, go eat something – you don't need to be up here."

"I had a doughnut for breakfast," she informed him as she wrung out another wet towel to make a cold compress. "Don't worry about me – I'm good. That doughnut can carry me through to dinner if need be."

He scowled at that – the woman had absolutely no clue about how important it was to take care of her body. And _what _a body. Shaking his head briskly to clear any X-rated thoughts that still remained, Jason reached for her wrist. "Elizabeth, you weigh ten god damn ounces. Go eat something. Get out of here."

The brunette's lips pursed into a thin line as she cocked her head at him and glanced at the delicate black watch she wore. "Tell you what – fine. I'll go downstairs and make a sandwich but I'm coming right back up here. Do you want something? Water? Juice?"

"How 'bout some real food?" he groused, trying to be discreet in his attempts to look up her poor excuse of a skirt when she stood.

"Not without finishing your soup," she smirked, fiddling with the strings of her apron. "Come on, Morgan, be a good boy and finish your soup and I'll buy you a toy. You want a toy, right?"

He glared at her as she backed up, still chuckling, and left the room. That girl was going to be the death of him. She had stayed late with him the night before, focused singularly on her quest to drive his fever down. He wasn't sure how productive the whole endeavor had been – just being near her made the temperature in the room shoot up a couple degrees as far as he was concerned. But she had stayed with him regardless, continuously arranging his cold compress and wiping away his sweat. His fever had been dangerously high – so high in fact that Elizabeth had almost called the hospital. But under her ministrations, it had gone down in the early hours of the morning.

He had tried relentlessly, even going so far as to beg her outright, to get her to retire to her own room and get some sleep. And even though she had to open up the following morning, Elizabeth refused to leave. When his fever had finally fallen a bit, he managed to convince her to get some sleep. She had staggered to her own bedroom like a zombie, and had somehow gotten up for work in a few hours.

And she had been working all morning downstairs, and now she was choosing to spend her lunch break in his temporary bedroom. His pants were slung over a chair, his t-shirt folded on a chair, and his wallet and keys sat on the dresser. And, he noticed with a faint sense of satisfaction, her personal effects were also strewn about the room. Her sweater from the night before was lying on top of his pants, her pink Miss Piggy socks were balled up and stuffed in his motorcycle boots, and she had even left her sparkly crimson cell phone next to his wallet. To the casual observer, it would appear that the two of them shared the little room above the quaint diner.

"Here we go," Elizabeth chirped, coming into the room with some sort of hastily-assembled sandwich and a glass of water. "I think you should take some medicine now, Jason – those headaches of yours aren't going away."

He let her pop a couple pills into his mouth and then he braced himself wearily up on his elbows. She used one hand to cup the back of his neck, holding his head steady, and held the glass to his lips with the other. When he had swallowed the medicine, she gently lowered him back down and settled onto his bed herself, reaching for her sandwich.

Jason eyed her peanut butter and jelly sandwich with barely concealed disdain. "That's not lunch."

"Yes, it is," she frowned defensively, taking a big bite out of it just to spite it and getting a little peanut butter on the corner of her mouth. "It's a perfectly good lunch."

"It's a snack," he corrected. "You're taking advantage of the fact that I can't move – I'd never let you eat that for lunch. And you've got a little on your face there," he added, deftly reaching one hand up to point it out. She stopped chewing as his thumb swiped at the spot of peanut butter and before Jason could blink, her little pink tongue came out to lick it clean. The brunette kept eating as if nothing had happened, completely oblivious to Jason's shock, and the feverish mechanic wondered if anything he did would ever render him attractive to the completely unaffected little woman.

"Okay, I have to get back to work in about five minutes," she got out around a mouthful of bread and peanut butter. "But if you need anything, I'll grab my cell and you can just call me, okay? Don't even think of coming downstairs, Morgan. Besides the fact that you're totally naked, you're also dizzy. I can't have you falling all over the place."

"I'm not naked," he groused. "I'm wearing my boxers."

She shrugged as if it was inconsequential, but in all honesty she was _very_ aware of the fact. It was so strange to be seated atop Jason Morgan's bed, of all places, and knowing that the man was only clad in his Calvins underneath the tan blanket. "Whatever. Just don't come downstairs, okay? Call me if you need anything and I'll be right up."

He nodded dutifully as she finished off her excuse for a lunch, and then Elizabeth busied herself in wetting his cold compress once more and fixing his blankets around his bare chest. Finished, she tucked her hair behind her ear and pressed a smacking kiss to his forehead and was out the door before Jason even had time to form a coherent thought.

* * *

She was refilling soda glasses for a group of high school kids stopping by for an after-school snack of chili cheese fries when her phone rang. Finishing up quickly, Elizabeth deposited the drinks on the table and was able to answer her phone on the third ring.

"Yeah?" She knew exactly who it was from the name on her caller ID display. "What do you need?"

"Um, I don't have any more water…" 

"I'll be right there." Making sure that all her customers were satisfied for the moment and that she wouldn't be missed if she ducked out for two minutes, Elizabeth poured some cool water into a clean glass and quickly ran up the stairs.

Jason was awake – barely – and lying in bed looking horribly uncomfortable. Elizabeth shut the door softly behind her and walked up to his bed slowly, frowning at how flushed he appeared to be. His startlingly blue eyes – hazy and a bit unfocused – met hers and the brunette knelt down next to him. Slipping one hand under his neck, she helped him sit up as she had done before and held the water to his lips. He was burning under her palm and sweating again, and Elizabeth watched worriedly as he gulped down the cool water.

He was almost finished with the water and she was about to take his temperature again when a harsh knock sounded on the wooden door before it was thrown open, and a wide-eyed Bobbie practically hurtled herself into the room. Her green eyes widened when she saw Elizabeth leaning across her partially naked nephew who was half-sitting up in bed, and for a moment the veteran doctor couldn't speak.

Elizabeth was the first to open her mouth, and the flushed brunette managed to stammer out a greeting. "Bobbie…hi." Well, this was wonderful – her boss coming to the diner to see her practically sprawled out across Jason's very bare chest. Absolutely wonderful.

"What's going on?" the older woman got out, recovering from her surprise and quickly making her way to the bed. "I just got off call and came to get some food before going home to sleep, and Penny told me that Jason was sick and-"

"He's got a bit of a fever," Elizabeth nodded as Jason slipped back down onto the pillows again. Her soft palm lingered on his stubbled cheek as Bobbie sat down next to her.

"Since when?"

Elizabeth bit her lip as the doctor reached for the thermometer on the nightstand. "Um…last night."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You were on call," she replied defensively. "I knew that, and so I didn't bother. You wouldn't have been able to come anyway."

Bobbie nodded, having momentarily forgotten that, and coaxed Jason to open his mouth so she could slide the thermometer in. Her nephew felt absolutely ridiculous as the two women continued to chatter over him – it was downright humiliating. Not only was he half-naked in bed and unable to move, but his mother-hen of an aunt was fussing over him while the coworker he was secretly lusting after watched. Absolutely ridiculous.

"It's still high," Bobbie murmured, pulling out the thermometer. "What have you been doing?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly and fiddled with the blanket. "Um, I made sure he got plenty of liquids, I checked his temperature every hour, I made him a compress of sorts, I fed him soup-"

"And he's been resting, right?" Bobbie interrupted, tenderly brushing her nephew's blonde hair back and ignoring the way he groaned. "He needs to rest if he wants to get better."

"He slept almost the entire morning," Elizabeth replied. "And I've been coming up every so often to check up on him."

Bobbie was nodding slowly. "There's not much I can do – it's a normal fever-cold combination, and we have to let it run its course."

"Exactly," Elizabeth agreed, standing up and taking the older woman by the elbows. "And that's why you need to get your lunch and go home to get some rest. You've been up all night, Bobbie, and you're not going to be doing Jason any favors if you fall asleep on your feet. Come on."

"Are you sure?" the redhead fretted, glancing worriedly at her half-asleep nephew. "I could-"

"You can go home and rest," Elizabeth interrupted, wrapping an arm reassuringly around her waist and leading her to the door. "Just like you told Jason to. Don't worry, Bobbie – I'll take good care of him. I promise."

That seemed to ease the older woman's conscience a bit, and she smiled nervously at Elizabeth. "All right, honey, okay. You've done a wonderful job – thank you for everything. Jason's so lucky to have a good friend like you." She knew better than to expect an outright denial of that, but Elizabeth's little blush told the kind-hearted doctor all she needed to know about the state of her nephew's relationship with the petite waitress. With a nod and a small, smug smile, Bobbie patted Elizabeth's hand and descended the steps to the diner, leaving the brunette to wonder if her feelings for her co-worker were really that transparent. Perhaps they were – to everyone but Jason, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

The daylight had already departed and dusk had set in when Jason awoke in his bed. His head was much clearer and it felt as if his fever had gone down, and he couldn't have been happier. He wouldn't have to burden Elizabeth anymore with his frustrating inability to take care of himself, and he could actually get back into his normal rhythm now.

He was just pondering that when there was a soft knock on his door. A second later, the doorknob turned quietly and the door opened slowly. Jason's eyes were glued to the opening and he was rewarded when Elizabeth stepped into view. But when the mechanic saw what his petite co-worker was wearing this evening, he wasn't too sure about the rewarded part – tortured seemed to be a better way to put it.

The brunette beauty was barefoot and her lovely face was free of all makeup. Her hair was open and cascaded down to just past those creamy shoulders in soft waves of chocolate silk, but it was her choice in apparel that nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Instead of the pajama bottoms and full-sleeved shirt he had seen her wear to bed the previous night, she wore a flimsy pale pink silk nightie with spaghetti straps that fell to several inches above her knee.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, her toenails were painted a very enticing shade of bubblegum pink.

Jason couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips when she stepped into the dim light of his room, the golden rays bouncing off her sheer nightgown and causing the pink silk to have an almost illuminating effect. Her lips curved into a sinister smile as she rolled forward smoothly, not the least bit fazed by his hungry eyes.

"How are you feeling, Tiger?"

He swallowed roughly, devouring her with his intense eyes. "B-Better."

"That's good," she purred, easing slowly up until the fronts of her thighs brushed against the edge of the bed, mere inches from his fingers. "You're back to your normal self. Good to hear."

"What-" His voice was thick and rough, as rough as sandpaper. "What are you doing here?"

She lifted one shoulder to shrug, causing one strap to slip down her arm and give him a very appealing view of the upper swell of her firm breast. "I just came to check up on my favorite patient."

He didn't miss the sultry, flirtatious note in her voice and his body throbbed in response. "You know, I think I still might have a bit of a fever."

He was baiting her and they both knew it. Fortunately for him, Lizzie Webber always bit. With unmistakable seductive intent gleaming in those unearthly sapphire orbs, she lifted her nightie higher still and crawled onto the bed. "I'd better check, then."

In one smooth motion, she tugged at the blankets and pulled them entirely off his body, revealing his black Calvins and nothing else. Jason gazed up at her in a mixture of shock and excitement as she lifted one supple thigh and straddled him easily, her body heat burning him to the core. She planted both hands on his chest and leaned in, grinding her lower body against his as her lips inched toward his.

"Ooh, yeah, I can feel it," she whispered, her sweet breath mingling with his. "You're hot, Morgan. And you know what? So am I."

He didn't even have the capability of forming a coherent thought as her lips seized his fiercely in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues met, mingling, dueling, and Elizabeth smoothed her hands down his arms and twined their fingers together.

She was still straddling him in her ridiculously short nightgown and Jason shifted underneath her, letting her feel the pressure of his hard, hot body right in the cradle of her thighs. The blue-eyed vixen moaned into his mouth, sending all his blood rushing straight down south. Jason pulled his hands free of hers, letting her curl her fingers into the sheets now as he worshipped her mouth, and his fingers went to work pulling on the straps of her nightgown.

The flimsy material gave easily and he tugged it down, baring her perfect breasts. Her mouth was hot and wet on his neck, the column of his throat, as Jason molded her to his palms, strumming her, playing with her, making her whimper his name. He had waited for this moment for so long and now that it was finally here he could barely contain himself. His body was humming with vital energy as she dug her nails into his shoulders and pulled away from his masterful hands, trailing scorching, lingering kisses down his chest, his abdomen, skirting his navel with her tongue, then heading lower…

"Jason? Hey! Jason! Jason, wake up!"

He shot up out of bed like a bullet out of a gun, panting hard and wincing at the pain that suddenly shot through his tight and rock-hard body. Elizabeth's wide eyes were peering at him anxiously, her hand smoothing back his damp hair, and Jason wanted to ram his fist through the wall.

"You all right?" she asked with concern, still smoothing his hair back. "You looked like you were having a dream and-"

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, making sure the blankets were strategically arranged so that she wouldn't notice his…peculiar state of heightened sensitivity. "I – I'm fine."

"You're sweating buckets," she frowned, her hand still clasping his in a gesture so natural that it surprised them both for a moment. "You sure you-"

"I think I'm going to take a shower," he announced suddenly, shifting on the bed to show her that he was serious, though not risking an actual move at the expense of exposing his arousal. "Yeah. I need a shower."

"Okay," she got out slowly, troubling her bottom lip. "You're not dizzy, are you? You think you can make it? If you need me to help-"

"I can do it myself," he assured her, trying furiously to calm his breathing once more. He'd do it himself or die trying.

She shrugged uneasily. "Okay, but be careful. If you get dizzy, just come back to bed, okay? I'm going to run down to your bike and get you some clothes. You do still keep something in the cab, don't you?"

He was nodding, very relieved that she had an excuse to go outside and let him get to the bathroom himself. "Yeah, yeah, in the cab."

Elizabeth grabbed his keys and her coat to retrieve his clothes, and Jason slowly eased himself out of bed. It took him an excruciatingly long time to get into his jeans, and he didn't even bother to zip them up or buckle them, instead pulling his sweater down over them and staggered to the bathroom. By the time Elizabeth got upstairs again, the water was already running. She knocked on the door and deposited his sweatpants and t-shirt on the little counter, then made her way back to his room.

When Jason got back from his frigid shower – he knew it wasn't good in his current feverish state to bathe in such cold water, but certain other bodily situations took precedence – he found that Elizabeth had just finished changing his sheets and was now putting new cases on his pillow. She looked up, smiled at him, and took his hand. Jason allowed himself to be pulled over to the bed and he flopped down, utterly exhausted. If dream-sex with Elizabeth would prove to be that strenuous, he didn't even want to think what state he'd be in afterwards if he was lucky enough to get that chance in real life.

Her classes were called off for the next day so Elizabeth didn't have much to worry about and announced that she could still spend a bit more time with him before she conked out on the carpet. She checked his temperature and frowned at the thermometer some more, and then tried to feed him some more soup. He was able to finish most of it before pushing it away, and Elizabeth actually left it at that through some stroke of infinite mercy.

Time passed slowly and the petite brunette began to yawn, although she made sure Jason didn't notice. As much as she babied him sometimes, she was stunned to realize that he had his own ways of babying her. He always tried to make sure that she ate something healthy and of substance when she ate at the diner – even going so far as to cook for her himself. He never let her leave for school without breakfast, he would periodically check under the hood of her car to make sure everything was running smoothly and even changed the oil for her on one occasion, and he always took care to notice when she was tired and then tried to shuttle her off to bed. She was sure he'd do the same thing now out of that warped sense of nobility of his and she just wasn't going to have any of it.

"You tired, Morgan?" she asked, sticking her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans. "You wanna hit the hay?"

He looked at her curiously before shrugging. "I slept all day, Elizabeth – I'm not tired right now."

But she could see the fatigue that still lay settled across him, and even though he claimed he wasn't tired, she knew that Jason needed to sleep. He was slowly getting better and she wouldn't want him to jeopardize that by not getting enough rest.

"Tell you what," she started, tucking her open hair behind her ears. "I'll stay up with you for a while longer. Just give me a minute to get changed."

Jason watched as she quickly ducked out of the room and appeared moments later wearing her pink pajama bottoms and a matching pink shirt that read simply _I am a student of the kama sutra_. Oh, what he wouldn't give to find out how well-educated she was.

"You don't have to," he tried to assure her as she rummaged through a small pile of books she carried. "It's okay, you can go to sleep."

"Not tired," she answered simply, finally picking one book out and setting the rest on the dresser before strolling back to bed. He watched as she lifted one leg and climbed onto the bed, sitting Indian-style next to him with a book on her lap. "Besides, I know what we can do until you go to sleep."

His blue eyes were glued to the book as Jason tried to read the title. "What's that?"

"Well, you're always talking about Italy," she smiled back at him, flipping the blue hardcover open. "This is my favorite travel book about Italy."

Jason couldn't help but smirk at her. "You've got a travel book about Italy just lying around in your room?"

"Sure," she replied defensively. "I've also got Egypt, Morocco, a couple on France, one on Spain, Singapore, Taiwan, and Turkey. I like the Italy one best, though, because it has these awesome glossy photographs and everyone knows that there's no place in the world as beautiful as Italy, though some say Kashmir is but I've never really looked into that although I do like that Led Zeppelin song of the same name, so if that's any bearing on it-" she trailed off when she noticed him smiling. "It's pretty weird that I have this lying around and I've never been to Italy, isn't it?"

"Nope," he disagreed, settling down next to her. "I thought I was the only one that kept travel books."

Her eyes lit up at their shared interest, and Jason watched with a small smile as she eagerly flipped the book open and began to read to him. Her voice was sweet and lilting, savoring each word as eagerly as he imagined she'd savor Italy if she ever went, and it didn't take long for him to become completely absorbed.

The minutes ticked by as Elizabeth read, but neither of them noticed. She had slipped into a comfortable rhythm and besides that, she felt quite comfortable in his bed. He had offered her the blankets and now they were both curled up underneath the warm wool as visions of Rome played out before them. She had piled two pillows under head and lay a bit elevated above him, and try as he would, Jason couldn't help but let his eyes droop shut as she continued to read.

"In Italy, the largest cities outside of the northern industrial area are the capital, Rome, and Naples. Rome has a location that is roughly central within Italy. Rome is predominantly a governmental, religious and tourist center. Naples, located farther south, on the west coast of the peninsula, is the port for the populous and productive, but very poor, Campanian agricultural region described earlier. It is also the main urban center of one of Italy's major tourist regions, with attractions such as Mount Vesuvius, the ruins of Pompeii, and the island of Capri in the vicinity."

Her voice was soothing and gentle and before long, Jason slipped into a deep and peaceful slumber in the small, warm room above Kelly's diner.

* * *

He awoke sometime in the early morning before the first rays of the sun had kissed the horizon. Jason blinked slowly as awareness set in, and his head actually felt a bit lighter and no longer throbbed painfully. He had slept exceptionally well last night, and from the looks of it, so had Elizabeth.

The brunette beauty was tucked into his side, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped securely around her waist, anchoring her to him. There was a sublime innocence about her when she slept, making her look years younger and as pure as the driven snow, and Jason was perfectly content to just lay there and watch her, utterly enamored with the delicate wisp of a girl.

His fingertips brushed against her velvety skin, tucking an errant lock of chocolate silk behind the shell of her ear, and Jason's hand lingered above her soft cheek. It was a wonderfully exhilarating feeling – to know that she had fallen asleep in his bed of all places, the book about Italy having now slipped to the floor.

He only had eyes for her as the little brunette muttered something about heffalumps and woozles in her sleep, shifting against him and pressing her cheek hard against his strong shoulder. Holding his breath and utterly unable to help himself, Jason inched closer to her face, his nose brushing hers gently. His lips swept over hers in a light caress, and then he bent closer. Shifting on the bed, he rolled over slightly so that she was perfectly ensconced in his arms.

Her breath rattled out past her lips as Jason pressed his lips more insistently to her soft, warm ones, kissing her softly and with baited breath. Something inside him fluttered and blossomed when she responded softly beneath him, kissing him back gently. His lips caressed hers more firmly now, and Jason could barely manage to curb back a moan when her small hand rose limply to cup the back of his neck, her clipped nails scraping lightly against his scalp as he slipped his tongue past those full lips.

She was just as sweet as she had been the first time he had kissed her, and she tasted of hot apple cider on a freezing winter morning, melted marshmallows on a muggy summer night. She was exquisite and opened for him wonderfully, inviting him in to the delectable recesses of her warm mouth and Jason was absolutely powerless to resist. He kissed her softly and slowly, savoring each taste, each caress, each feeling.

The brunette murmured something against his lips and Jason pulled back slowly, gazing in wonder down at her. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, her skin slightly flushed, but still she slept on. Gently, he rolled back into place, keeping one arm around her waist the whole time and being careful not to jar her. His heart was still thundering when she shifted against him, bringing one hand to rest against his chest.

Jason's breath caught in his throat when those beautiful eyes he loved so much floated open, and Elizabeth stared sleepily back at him from half-hooded orbs. Her lips curved into a slow, sleepy smile and her raven lashes descended once again, hiding those pools of cornflower blue from his view. His heart was still racing as she murmured something about purple ballet slippers and cuddled up against him, and as Jason wrapped his arms protectively around her waist, he couldn't help but let himself think about how perfect his life would be if every morning could be like this.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

Her lashes slowly fluttered and Elizabeth groaned low in her throat, finding the idea of waking up very unappealing. She was comfortable right where she was; she was warm and at peace and she didn't want to move. Ever. Half-sighing, half-growling, the brunette lifted her hand and brought it under her chin, seeking to snuggle into her pillow and burrow back into the warm cocoon of slumber.

But her pillow wasn't quite as soft as she imagined it would be. Instead, it was hard – and hot. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she pouted, sleepily puzzled when she was able to splay her fingers across a hard, warm surface – underneath which she could feel something steadily thumping.

Reluctantly and with great physical effort, Elizabeth lifted her heavy lids. And promptly saw a dark shadowed peak right by her lips and the broad expanse of a very muscular chest directly under her small hand.

Shooting upright with a startled cry, the brunette had to blink a couple times before she was convinced that the scene she saw before her was real. Jason was half-sitting in bed with the previous day's newspaper in one hand and his other arm wrapped protectively around her waist, anchoring her to his side as she slept, blissfully ignorant.

The corner of his mouth hooked up as she stared at him. "Morning."

"Oh. Um, good morning," she stammered, running her hand through her mussed hair. He watched her openly as she brushed the silky, tousled strands back and then checked under the covers. He couldn't help the grin that rose to his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Her cheeks pinkened instantly. "Nothing."

"Checking to see if you're still dressed?" he teased wickedly, his question validated when she rolled her eyes with a huff and proceeded to kick off the warm comforter.

She dangled her legs off the edge of the bed, shaking her head briskly before she hopped up to stand. "Jesus," she muttered under her breath, bending over to grab at her slippers and inadvertently giving him a lovely view of her little bottom. She righted them and quickly stomped her feet into the blue fuzz. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

The amused smile dropped off of Jason's face at the humiliation in her voice, the embarrassment that was practically radiating off of her in palpable waves. "Elizabeth-"

"You're supposed to be getting better and what do I do?" she stomped over to the dresser to snatch up her keys that she had left there the previous day. "I drape myself all over you and you can't even get a good night's sleep."

He lunged for her as soon as she was close enough, succeeding in grabbing her wrist and yanking her off her feet. With a startled yelp, she crashed on top of his chest, her hands braced on his hard muscles, and stared at him in surprise before hastily trying to scramble off of him. But Jason anticipated that move and wrapped one arm around her waist, allowing her to scoot off of him but still keeping her pinned to his side.

"Hey."

She wouldn't quite meet his eyes so he shook her lightly.

"Hey, look at me." Her pearly white teeth worried her bottom lip as Elizabeth slowly raised her dark sapphire orbs to his. "It's not a big deal, Elizabeth."

She was far from convinced. "Jason, you're still sick and instead of letting you rest, I-"

"I slept fine, Elizabeth," he assured her, not quite ready to tell her that it was the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time. "You weren't bothering me."

Her silky bangs escaped from behind her ear and shielded her eyes. "I'm so sorry I fell asleep in your bed."

His fingers tenderly brushed over the smooth skin of her forehead as he tucked her bangs back behind the shell of her ear again, and Jason swallowed quietly before he could speak. "It's not a problem, Elizabeth – it's fine."

"I don't even remember falling asleep," she babbled, still mangling her lower lip. "I didn't mean to – I thought I'd just…sit with you and read for a while and then get out as soon as you fell asleep."

Her cheeks were blooming with soft color again and Jason thought she looked just adorable.

"I guess we must have fallen asleep together," she stammered, not noticing the way his eyes darkened at the mention of them sleeping 'together'. "I-I mean, at the same time. We fell asleep at the same time – we must have."

"Elizabeth." One hand cupped her cheek as Jason forced her to meet his honest gaze. "It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

She accepted it slowly and when Jason could see she had, he relinquished his hold on her back. The brunette pushed herself languidly back up into a sitting position and tucked her hair behind her ears, licking her lips as she searched for something to say that would veer them away from that embarrassing conversation. "So…how do you feel?"

"Not too bad," he answered, rubbing his throat with one strong hand. "My throat's still raw, though."

"You need some tea," she answered affirmatively, already hopping to her feet.

"I don't drink tea."

"You were drinking tea the other day."

"Only because I had to."

"Well, you have to now."

"I don't like tea."

"Oh, yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

Her blue eyes sparkled as she quirked a smile at him and reached for the door. "You'll like it the way I make it," she promised. "With honey and cloves and cardamom and cinnamon – the secret Webber ingredient. Just give me a minute to shower and change and I'll bring you up some breakfast, okay?"

Jason nodded slowly as she left the room, closing the door behind her, and he couldn't help but think that he might be able to get used to this.

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly, and Elizabeth ended up bringing her books into Jason's room and he kept her company while she studied. He was slowly getting better – his fever was mild, he wasn't coughing or wheezing anymore, and he could talk without having his throat feel like it was on fire – and the older man honestly enjoyed her company. Perhaps it was the way she'd crawl onto his bed and sit Indian-style next to him with her notebook computer between them and a book spread out in her lap, but he enjoyed having her so close by. 

She managed to convince him to spend the night for yet another time seeing as how he'd just have to come back to work the next morning and there was really no point in his going all the way back to Jake's and then coming all the way back again. Bobbie was perfectly happy to let him open Kelly's a little later than usual, and it was about noon when Jason and Elizabeth both got downstairs. He headed into the kitchen immediately, leaving Elizabeth with her waitress friends, and the girl was instantly cornered. Lisa and Jen jumped on her instantly and Renee was no better, and all three of them teased her mercilessly. Seth came down on his way to a late meeting at the paper, offered her a sympathetic smile, and promptly left before he could be sucked into their girly babblings.

The day passed smoothly; Jason was clearly feeling worlds better after a couple days of being miserable with the flu, and things returned to normal. By the time their shift ended, he was just as cool and collected as he always was – but Elizabeth, on the other hand, was completely exhausted.

Jason smirked when he saw her sitting at a table after closing, her arms crossed over the top and her head buried there. He made quick work of pouring himself a cup of coffee and fixing her the hot chocolate she loved so much, and then he ambled over to her table and sat down. She rolled her head to the side, peeking out at the steaming mug from under a curtain of chocolate silk, and gratefully smiled at him. It took a Herculean effort for the little brunette to raise herself up and sip from the mug.

"Tired, Elizabeth?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, taking a long sip and enjoying the feeling of the cocoa slowly warming its way down to her stomach. "I don't know what's wrong with me – I'm just zapped. So – how are you feeling?"

He couldn't help the small smile that rose to his lips at that. She always thought of others before she thought of herself, and here she was, dead-tired, and still worrying about him. "I'm good. It passed pretty quickly."

"Yeah," she yawned, crossing her arms over the table again and coughing lightly into her elbow. "You have to take care of yourself, though, Mr. I Like To Drive Around On My Bike In Winter In Just A Leather Jacket – for all your lectures on my health, you're sure not looking good yourself."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

"I didn't mean it _that_ way," she huffed, feeling a little cranky. "You do look good."

"Yeah?" Jason knew it was wrong and he knew it would make her angry, but he couldn't help smirking flirtatiously at her. "Good, huh?"

She glared at him. "What I meant was that you don't look healthy."

"So I look…unhealthy."

"Yeah."

"But I do look good."

She tucked her chin into her palm, glaring at her mug. "Stop it."

"Hey, I didn't do anything – you're the one that's sittin' there telling me I look good." His smirk was still firmly in place as he leaned forward, quirking one sandy brow at her. "How good, Elizabeth?"

She could not for the life of her believe that they were having this conversation, and if she wasn't so damn tired she'd be a puddle of mush at his feet. "Stuff it, Morgan," she pouted, frowning at him when he dared to let out a rusty chuckle. "We're not in fifth grade anymore."

He was still smiling at her in that adorable way that she realized she suddenly hated – she hated it because he was being cute and charming and flirty and she was tired and unable to enjoy it.

"Stop looking at me."

The bastard leaned closer, crossing his meaty forearms over the table and gazing at her devilishly. "Why? You look good."

That broke through the wall of her fatigue, and Elizabeth couldn't help laughing as she landed her bare foot on his thigh, kicking him lightly under the table. Jason chuckled back and grabbed her ankle, menacingly at first to scare her, but then surprised her by pulling her leg across his lap. He grabbed her other leg and did the same, then grasped the leg of her chair and pulled it closer to him so that her legs were comfortably sprawled across his lap.

His large hands rested lightly on her knees, burning through the cotton of her loose maroon knee-length skirt, and Elizabeth felt it acutely when his thumb absently stroked her skin under the fabric. "I'm sorry you're so tired."

She could only smile wearily at him, her head still resting on her arms. "There you go again, Morgan."

"What do you mean?"

"-Apologizing for something that's not your fault," she replied softly with a little laugh that sounded more like another cough. "Don't stop, though – that's an admirable habit. One that any girl is lucky to find in her guy." She sighed heavily and tucked her hair behind her ear before clinking her nails against her mug. "All men should apologize more."

"Why?"

"They should apologize for being assholes." He snapped his mouth shut and she glanced quickly at him. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Okay."

"Hey, Jason?"

His fingers tapped a soft beat on her cute little knees. "What?"

"I like having you around."

He couldn't tell if she was serious or just really sleepy and muttering things she had no intention of saying otherwise but regardless, it touched him and brought a little smile to his face. "Thanks."

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily, suddenly finding the gentle flutter of his fingers against her knees very soothing. "You're nice. That's why I like having you around."

"Nice?" He crinkled his nose in a slight grimace. "I know I've never been told that before."

"You should be told that more often," she declared in a voice slurred with weariness. Jason continued to gently rub her knees, unable to stop himself from completing the hypnotic motions, and he noticed that her eyes had fallen shut. "You're very nice. I didn't think you were nice before – you know, before we made out in the kitchen."

He balked slightly at that, surprised that she had said it. They never talked about that anymore, and he hadn't been expecting her to say that. And what was all this about not thinking he was nice before she kissed him? Did she always let guys she didn't think were nice put their hand under her skirt?

"I thought you were too quiet, too grrrrruff." She growled softly in her sleep, sniffling and wiping the sleeve of her soft cotton full-sleeved shirt across her itchy nose. "But you're not. You're nice. Sweet."

He was going to be sick if he heard that word once more coming from her mouth.

"You don't want anything from me, which is nice," she continued to mumble. "You don't want me to help you out with school, you don't want me to help you get in good with some of my friends, you don't want to get in my pants." His eyes flew wide open and Jason just stared at her, this innocent young woman that was half-asleep at a little table with her legs laying across his lap. "And that's nice. I haven't met too many guys that were nice like that."

A long pause lingered between them and he was sure she had fallen asleep until she spoke again, a cross between a whimper and a whisper.

"Jason?"

He leaned closer and dropped his own voice to a whisper. "What?"

"Don't change."

The older man swallowed, unsure of how to answer. "Elizabeth, people _do_ change."

"Not you," she ordered, almost gone entirely into a realm of deep slumber. "Not you, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

She walked into Kelly's after classes with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder, rubbing her red nose with a wadded up tissue. There hadn't been any snowfall in a while now, but the winds were fierce and cut straight through to the bones. Thankfully, spring was just around the corner, no thanks to Mr. Groundhog, and she hoped that things would warm up soon because frankly, she didn't think she could take the frigid temperatures or biting gusts anymore. 

The diner only held a few patrons and Jason was able to sit comfortably behind the counter with a mug of his no-strings-attached coffee. He tipped his head at her when she walked in, and Elizabeth set down her stuff and shuffled over to the counter.

Jason set down his mug and hopped off the counter on which he had been sitting. "You look terrible."

She pouted at him, batting her long raven lashes and honestly having no idea what that innocent little gesture did to him. "I thought you told me I looked good last night."

He smirked and she smirked back, and then the brunette busied herself making some hot chocolate to combat the late-winter temperatures. Jason watched her lazily, his own thoughts drifting back to last night. Yeah, she had looked good. She had looked damn good – in his arms as he carried her slumbering form up to bed. Her hair was mussed and had fallen into her face, and she had wound her arms around his neck and burrowed into his chest as he slowly climbed the stairs up to her room. Good wasn't even close to describing what she had looked like.

"It's so freaking cold out there," she muttered, somewhat irritated and cranky. "I hate the cold. I hate the snow."

"No, you don't," he chuckled, remembering that one snowball fight in the park where she had flown into his arms, crying for him to save her from a bunch of six-year olds armed with snowballs. "You love the snow."

"You're right," she conceded with a sigh, now somewhat irritated that he was right and she was wrong – about her own feelings, no less. "I do like the snow."

"Here – let me do that. You go sit." Jason took the mug from her and continued to stir the hot cocoa in, and then slipped it into the microwave and nuked it for another minute. "Hungry?"

"I want cheese fries."

Jason frowned at her as she slumped onto the stool. She honestly didn't look that good – she was pale and her nose was bright red, and she looked as tired as she did last night when she had asked him never to change. If anything, the little brunette needed something healthy – a real meal. "Elizabeth, let me get you some chili and a salad or something. Do you want a sandwich? –I can make you that."

"Cheese fries."

"How about pancakes?" he asked, playing his Trump card. She had never been able to refuse his pancakes – she begged him to make her some every morning before she ran off to school. This morning, however, she had grabbed a cup of milk and a PowerBar and shuffled out the door. "I'll make you some pancakes."

She considered it, but then when that stubborn pout fell back in place on her glossed made-to-be-kissed lips, he knew he had lost. "Cheese fries, Jason."

"Fine," he sighed. "Cheese fries."

She sipped her cocoa languidly as he fixed her what she wanted, her bright sapphire eyes never leaving his strong form. Despite the fact that he was moving with the same energy that he always did, she could faintly make out the circles under his eyes. "You okay, Jason?"

He nodded briskly, dumping the fries on a plate and sliding them over to her. "Yeah, fine."

"You look tired," she continued, cocking her head at him as she played with a fry. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

He eyed her humorlessly, quirking a brow at her mother-hen tendencies that he feared had even begun to rival those of his aunt, and then scrubbed a hand over his face. "No. The music was blaring all night long and I didn't catch a wink."

She was frowning sadly as she licked cheese off of her fingers, suckling them thoughtfully and not noticing the way Jason cringed and quickly averted his gaze. "You shouldn't have to put up with that, Jason."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not that bad."

"You still have headaches?"

The older man didn't answer and Elizabeth leaned forward, her lips pursed. "I said, do you still have headaches?"

Jason rolled his eyes and tipped his head to the side in reluctant admission, causing her to frown. "Oh, Jason, and that music doesn't make it any better, does it?" She glared down at her French fries and scooped up a glob of cheese with her finger. "You know what?"

He eyed her blandly. "What?"

"Don't get mad at me for this," she warned, wagging a finger at him. "But I think you should move into Kelly's."

"Elizabeth," he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "We've had this talk before-"

"Hear me out, Morgan," she interrupted, letting the tip of her tongue dart out and flick her sticky index finger. Inadvertently, that little move seized his attention immediately and she continued, completely unaware of the way he had zeroed in on her tongue and finger. "Look, you've told me yourself that you're pretty close to getting enough money to get the garage back up. You've got some saved, and you're in the process of finalizing that loan from the bank. You're not going to be working here much longer, Jason – you'll be able to do what you really do."

He nodded reluctantly, knowing where she was headed and knowing that it made sense.

"So why not move over here and spend the rest of that time in peace?" Her sapphire eyes arrested him, not allowing him to just brush the suggestion off. "You'd save the rent on Jake's, meaning you could save more, and you'd be so close that you really wouldn't be spending much on gas for the bike, either – lemme guess, it guzzles."

"Like a Diesel," he admitted, scratching his chin.

"Think about it this way," she offered, bracing her fingertips on the slick counter. "If you move into Kelly's, it only means that you'll be moving into the garage sooner."

He hadn't quite thought of it in those terms before and though he hated to admit it, the idea made sense financially and it was even a bit appealing. Besides being so close to work and not having to put up with the hassles that came with living at Jake's, moving into Kelly's – temporarily – would mean that he would be closer to Elizabeth.

"Tell you what," he started, bracing his strong arms on the countertop that separated them. "I'll make you a deal."

She was eyeing him curiously. "What?"

"You put down those fries and let me get you some real food, and I'll seriously consider it."

"Done deal, Morgan."

* * *

The following day was her day off, and Elizabeth had to spend most of it at the studio with her uncooperative painting. It was the same one of the dancing couple. She had been trying so hard to create a mood of passion and angst and longing and forbidden desire and all that good stuff that trashy, borderline pornographic romance novels were made of, but it just wasn't working. Instead of looking as if they were passionately lunging at each other in the dance, unable to handle even the slightest distance between their desperate bodies, her dancers looked like they were…hugging. 

It was too platonic and too soft – it didn't have the kick that she was looking for. The fire. The spark. The raw energy that would damn near set her paintbrush on fire once she captured it. And so after spending hours working to make it better and failing, Elizabeth had no choice but to take the painting off the easel and set it on the sidelines. She knew she had to start anew, to start fresh, but she had only just gotten the canvas stretched out over the frame before she decided that enough was enough – she was tired, she was feeling crappy and cranky, and she wanted a pick-me-up.

So she decided to go underwear shopping.

And after treating herself to a dinner that consisted of a giant pretzel off a cart – Jason would have her hide if he ever found out – and spending an insane amount of hours perusing various undie styles, Elizabeth staggered back to her room at Kelly's, laden down with several pink bags bulging with pink scented tissue and more underwear than she knew what to do with.

Her boots clomped on the steps and she tried to be quiet, knowing that it was after closing and that some of her friends were probably trying to get some shut eye before their big day the following morning – like Seth, who had an interview with a big New York politician scheduled and had already thrown up three times in the past four days just thinking about it.

But she had just reached the top of the landing when she saw something that made her do a double-take. A sliver of golden light fell across the green carpet of the hall, coming from the room right next to hers. The room that Jason had used when he had been ill. Curious to see if they had a new boarder in their midst, Elizabeth hurried up to the door and knocked.

In a few seconds, the door opened and Elizabeth was surprised to see Jason staring back at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she blinked, trying to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Jason?"

He tossed her a half-shrug and then pulled the door open. "Come on in."

"You're living here now?" She couldn't help but indulge the small smile that crept to her lips at the thought that he had listened to what she said and had considered it carefully.

The tall mechanic nodded slowly. "Yeah, I figured I might as well. You were right – I am saving on rent and gas, which I didn't think would be that big but once I looked at the numbers, it is. And it's quieter than Jake's, which is good, since I should probably be rested when it comes time to getting my place set up again."

She nodded in response, remembering how he had told her that he was designing the garage himself this time. Max already had the rudimentary floor plans and as soon as those were complete, Jason would be down there with the workers checking on the electrical wiring and a plethora of other things. "Yeah, yeah."

"It's just temporary, though," he clarified as she loosened her jacket, suddenly feeling very warm. "I'm not going to be staying any longer than I have to."

"Oh, of course not," she replied in an admittedly patronizing tone as she undid her buttons. "I never pictured you living in a place with flowers on the windowsills, anyway."

He glared at her wryly and moved back to the dresser where he had been unpacking his clothes from a duffel bag. Setting her bags on the floor by his bed, she moved to stand behind him, monitoring his work.

"You moved today?"

He kept moving, placing his neatly folded clothes into the appropriate drawer. "Yeah."

"Didn't you need some help?" she asked, her hands on her hips. "You could have called me. I would have helped."

Jason glanced up at her, noticing for the first time that her cheeks were flushed. "You? No thanks, Elizabeth."

Her brows furrowed in irritation and she glared at the back of his head. "Why not? If you've got something to say, Morgan, say it!" He didn't bite, but she could tell he was smirking which only made her madder. "What? Is it because you think I'm weak?"

His shoulders shook with repressed laughter and she wanted to kick him – wanted to land her leather-boot-clad foot square in the middle of his broad and muscular and oh-so-yummy back.

"I'm not weak!"

"I didn't say you were," he reminded her, pitching the duffel bag to the side and grabbing the other one that held mostly books and a few other personal effects like his shaving kit.

"You were thinking it!"

There was no denial.

"I knew it!" she seethed, her cheeks flaring up. "I'm not weak, Jason Morgan! I've got muscles, too, you know."

"I'm sure you do."

"Yeah, I do! So quit being Mr. Macho with me." She stomped her foot on the carpet and Jason turned around, still seated on the floor. Even though he thought she was wicked cute when she was angry, she had been more irritable and choleric since yesterday than she had been the whole time he'd known her. "I hate it when guys act all macho. I _hate_ it."

Jason's brows furrowed with concern when he noticed again how red she was and how her eyes were slightly hazy. He had just stood up from his crouching position when Elizabeth, unprepared for the wave of vertigo that unexpectedly washed over her, stumbled over her own feet and almost pitched to the floor. Instantly, his strong arms were around her, anchoring her to his hard form, refusing to let her fall.

She whimpered and clutched his shirt, trying to make the ground stop tilting. She was feeling hot and light-headed and fuzzy, and she didn't like it one bit. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You're hot," he growled, cupping one palm to her cheek and scowling when her warmth seared through his palm. "Great – I got you sick, too."

"Yeah, what's wrong with you?" she glowered back, less than pleased when he had to help her stand upright by bringing her crashing against his chest. His warm and yummy and lickable chest. "That's not a nice thing to do to a girl. I take back what I said about you being nice. You're un-nice."

He sighed heavily, watching her press a hand to her forehead and attempt to push out of his hold. She didn't even make it a step before she wobbled precariously again, and Jason quickly reached out and braced one arm behind her back and another behind her knees, effectively scooping her up off the floor.

"Put me down," she ordered weakly even as her head fell to rest on his shoulder. Jason shifted her tiny body in his arms, pressing his cheek down to her forehead like he had seen her do before.

"No."

"Put me _down_."

"Elizabeth, you're sick," he informed her, trying to reach for his doorknob without jostling her. "I'm taking you to bed."

She was quiet for a minute and then her finger poked him in the chest. "You're not 'upposed to say it like that."

He took her keys from her hand and fumbled for the right one, only half-listening to what she was mumbling about. "Hm?"

"You're supposed to say it in a low voice, a growl – _I'm taking you to bed. Grrrrrrrr_. Come on, Jason – be sexy."

If it had been any other woman in his arms, he would have laughed. But it wasn't – it was Elizabeth, and she was tired and sick and still managing to turn him on.

"I'm _very_ sexy," he couldn't help but inform her as he managed to get her door to open.

She was frowning against his t-shirt, still miffed that he wouldn't growl for her like she asked him to. "_I_ don't think so."

That stopped him and Jason stood still, a foot from her bed, as she pouted into his chest, rubbing the heel of her hand over her runny nose. No, of course she didn't find him sexy. That was why she didn't give a damn one way or another when he was half-naked in the same room with her; that was why she hadn't been mortified but only worried about costing him a good night's sleep when she had woken up in his bed. No, of course Elizabeth Webber didn't think he was sexy.

Jason braced her across his strong thigh as he tugged the comforter down, and then he shifted his hold on her and tenderly laid her down. Her eyes were half-closed as he managed to get her to roll out of her jacket, and then he took off her shoes and socks and peeled off the coarse, glittery purple sweater she wore, biting back a groan at the thin baby tee she wore underneath, showcasing a perfect set of breasts and absolutely no bra. Before he could do something he'd regret, Jason pulled the comforter on over her, not trusting himself even to remove her jeans. They were soft and worn – she'd be comfortable sleeping in them, he hoped.

Her lashes fluttered as she snuggled down under the comforter, whimpering softly, and her innocent expression tugged on Jason's heart. Slowly, he knelt down beside her and brushed her hair out of her face. Her full lips were painted in a pale rose-colored matte lipstick and had fallen partly open, and he gently swept his thumb across her mangled bottom lip.

Sucking in his breath, he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, silently promising her that he'd take good care of her, just like she had taken good care of him.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Yeah, I checked her temperature." Jason paced nervously back and forth in the dark hallway outside of Elizabeth's room. He had left the door partially ajar and every so often he would poke his head in and check on the brunette who had drifted off into a fitful slumber. "She's not delirious, is she? Should I bring her to the hospital?"

He listened carefully to his aunt as she urged him to remain calm and prescribed several actions for him to take. "Okay, fluids – soup, right? She said that soup was good when you were getting sick. Yeah, she made me drink tons of it. What do you mean, _good_? That stuff made me even sicker."

Jason's hand was poised on the knob as Elizabeth let out a little moan and flopped over on her stomach, swiping angrily at her bangs, which were clinging to her damp and flushed skin. "A humidifier? What's a humidifier? No, wait, if it's important, I'll find one – are you sure? Okay, fine, what else?"

He stayed on the phone with his aunt for another twenty minutes, making sure he knew exactly what he was supposed to do to help Elizabeth. After thanking her profusely for actually answering her phone at two in the morning, Jason clicked his cell off and slipped quietly back into Elizabeth's room.

She was tossing and turning in her sleep, looking dreadfully uncomfortable, as Jason filled a glass of water for her and spread a damp washcloth over her forehead. The little brunette quieted down some under his hands, and Jason gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed. Elizabeth was stirring, mumbling something in her half-sleeping state, and he figured it would be as good a time as any to get her to drink something like his aunt had told him.

"Hey," he whispered, gently tucking her silky hair behind her ear. "Elizabeth. Hey, come on, wake up." It seemed so natural to insert a term of endearment in there – sweetheart, or maybe honey – but he forced himself not to. And it was a good thing, too, because she was already partially awake, staring up at him with confused blue eyes.

"How you feeling?" His fingers still lingered in her hair and Elizabeth turned her cheek into his palm, sighing softly.

"Icky."

The corner of his mouth hooked up in that boyish smile she loved so much as Jason reached for her glass of water. "You wanna drink something?"

She nodded slowly and lifted herself to her elbows, accepting his help and taking the glass from his hands. Jason watched as she drained it quickly, gulping down the cool liquid, and then flopped back down onto her bed again.

"I'm hot."

The comforter had fallen a bit and was now resting underneath her breasts that appeared firm and pert through the soft baby tee she wore, and a muscle in Jason's jaw ticked. "I know."

"Oomph." Elizabeth was wriggling now under the covers, squirming and writhing, and Jason was on his feet and about to ask her what was wrong when he heard the rumble of her zipper. The jeans that he had been too cowardly to take off earlier were bothering her now, and the little spitfire had decided to take things into her own hands. She squirmed some more, kicking her feet in the air, and before Jason could blink, she flung a pair of worn blue jeans out from under the covers and onto the floor. "Mmth."

He just stared down at her and then the rumpled jeans, and then back again. Elizabeth burrowed into her pillow, coughing softly, and blinked up at him when she noticed that he hadn't left. "What time is it?"

"A little after two."

She frowned, closing her eyes, and tried to pull the covers over her head. "Go to sleep, Morgan."

"But-"

"Go to sleep. And let _me_ sleep. We can't both be dead on our feet tomorrow."

And with that, she dismissed him and disappeared under the covers, now just a tiny bulge under the sea of blue. It was when Jason heard her light snores that he quietly backed out of her room and entered his, quickly stripping off his shirt and pants and flopping down on his bed. He noticed her shopping bags from earlier still by his dresser and made a mental note to return those in the morning.

* * *

"I brought you soup."

His voice shattered whatever light, filmy semblance of sleep she had been precariously holding on to, and Elizabeth poked her head out from under her comforter. There, not two feet away from her, stood Jason Morgan, her resident Dr. Ben Casey. He was wearing dark denim jeans – she didn't even know he owned any dark denim – that fit him better than his baggy ones and showed off his backside, paired with a navy blue sweater. But what really made the picture perfect was the fact that he was holding a little breakfast tray with a steaming bowl of soup just for her.

She pouted up at him. "I want pancakes."

"Well, you get soup," he informed her with a smirk, moving forward and settling down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Icky."

"I figured." He set the tray near her and frowned when he realized that she wasn't going to eat it on her own. "What's the matter? You like soup."

"I want pancakes."

"You were the one that told me all about how good soup is supposed to be for you when you're sick."

"Pancakes, Jason."

He couldn't help the grin that claimed his lips at her childish arguing, and Jason reached out to tenderly brush her hair back from her face. "Elizabeth, you're sick and I'm taking care of you. And I say you get soup."

The brunette sighed, recognizing this as a losing battle, and slowly sat up in bed. Jason shifted closer and picked up the bowl, lifting a spoonful and blowing on it before offering it to her.

As she accepted it and closed her lips around his proffered spoon, Elizabeth realized that there could only be one logical explanation for the situation she currently found herself in: she had died and gone to heaven. It was as simple as that. Where else would Jason Morgan be sitting on her bed in ass-flattering jeans feeding her chicken soup?

He took his time feeding her, and Jason seemed to be secretly enjoying it as much as Elizabeth was. When the last spoonful finally disappeared, he let her settle back down in bed and affixed another damp towel to her forehead. After clearing away the dishes, he reached for the thermometer and slipped it in between her full lips.

Her temperature, while less than the previous night, was still high and Jason set about refilling her glass of water and making sure she was comfortable. Elizabeth watched him lazily, still wondering if this was real or some elaborate, borderline delirious fantasy. So far, the latter seemed to be winning.

"Hey, Jason?"

He looked up at her sleepy murmur. "What?"

"Sarah says that when I'm starting to get sick, I act like I'm high."

The tall blonde smirked at that. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm." Elizabeth's expressive blue eyes were half-closed as she burrowed into her pillow once more. "She says I make up words and act like a three-year-old."

"Yeah?"

"So I was wondering…do I?"

"Yeah."

She pouted sleepily at him, an expression he found absolutely adorable. "You need a new word."

Jason laughed and stepped toward her, using his rough fingertips to gently brush her stubborn hair back behind her ear again. "I'm sorry, but you do."

"I really acted like I was high?"

"Yeah."

"You're doing it again."

"Sorry."

There was a brief pause and he thought she had fallen asleep until Elizabeth spoke up again. "What did I do?"

"You informed me that you had muscles."

"I do."

His silver-blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm sure you do."

"I _do_," she insisted, opening her eyes and pushing herself up on her elbows with a frustrated huff. Jason watched, utterly enamored, as she lifted one slender arm and flexed it, revealing muscles that wouldn't make a kitten flinch. "See? I got muscles."

Unable to resist, he reached out and wrapped his rough hand around her arm, feeling her pulse race against his palm. "Impressive."

She pulled out of his grasp and flopped down on the bed again, somewhat irritated with him. "That's not nice."

"I know – you told me last night."

That made her pause. "I did?"

"Yeah. You called me un-nice."

Elizabeth blinked at him before giggling, and Jason smirked as she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, no! Sarah was right – I _do_ make up words!"

Jason laughed and laced his fingers through her hair again, this time more out of habit than necessity, and Elizabeth covered his dark hand with her soft, pale one. "Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean it – you're _very_ nice."

He grinned down at her, enjoying the feel of her hand against his. "Good to know."

Elizabeth smiled softly, her heavy lids drooping shut despite her attempt to keep them focused on him. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Jason's breath hitched in his throat at her soft murmur of gratitude and the way her thumb gently stroked his rough skin. Her eyes were already shut and Jason leaned forward slowly, hesitantly, until his lips brushed her forehead in a tender kiss.

"You're welcome."

* * *

He had been running upstairs and downstairs all day, checking on Elizabeth. He brought her water – and apple juice when she got sick of the water – and soup, despite her complaints. Bobbie stopped in after her shift at the hospital, dead-tired and ready to go home and fall asleep, but the nurse wanted to check up on Elizabeth in order to put her young nephew at ease. She knew there was something going on between Jason and Elizabeth, even if her sister's son was too stubborn to admit it. No one had ever had Jason this emotionally involved since as long as she could remember, and from where she was sitting, her nephew was a better man for it. Elizabeth seemed to bring out the best in him – he laughed, he smiled, he was playful, and he even joked around a bit.

Jason was waiting for her as soon as she entered the diner and led her up to Elizabeth's room. The brunette was half-propped up in bed, groggily staring at the pages of Kierkegaard's _The Sickness Unto Death_ and trying to make some sense out of it. Being stuck in bed all day was driving her crazy, and she figured she might as well try to get some of her homework done, although the idea proved more productive than the actual process.

She glanced up in surprise as Jason and his aunt burst into her room like a pair of storm troopers, and Bobbie immediately began an inspection. After taking her temperature and asking her a few questions, she informed her nephew that it was just the flu and it would run its course, and to stop calling her at two in the morning.

Jason averted his gaze when Elizabeth grinned cheekily up at him and mumbled his thanks to his aunt. Seeing the brunette's teasing smirk, he announced that he'd have a bowl of soup up for her in about five minutes. The smirk dropped off Elizabeth's face as he ushered his aunt out the door.

The evening passed fairly quickly. Jason brought up the soup he had promised along with some saltine crackers and proceeded to feed her once more. Though feigning indignance, Elizabeth selfishly enjoyed every minute of it. Afterwards, she entangled him in a game of five-card-draw and he beat her soundly, winning all of the M&Ms she had used as betting chips. In the end, he let her have them back and watched with thinly veiled disgust as she promptly ate them all, one by one.

He wasn't aware of how late it was until he glanced down at his watch; time just seemed to fly when he was with Elizabeth. The little brunette didn't want to sleep but the minute he dimmed the lights and coaxed her down into bed, she started to yawn. Shaking his head, Jason refilled her glass of water, swept her hair out of her face as she slipped off to sleep, and quietly left the room.

Pulling out his cell phone, Jason was about to call his aunt once more before he decided against it and shuffled into his own room. He didn't even notice her shopping bags still by his dresser as he stripped down to his boxers and got in bed.

* * *

The next day passed in the same fashion as the previous one. Elizabeth got into the habit of calling him on his phone when she wanted something – usually water or a clear soft drink and crackers – and Jason was once again scurrying up and down the stairs. He was fairly certain that he heard Penny and Renee giggling behind his back but he couldn't be sure because the minute he looked at them they turned their backs and returned to their customers.

Emily stopped by around lunchtime and grabbed her own lunch along with Elizabeth's, and the two girls stayed up there for hours. It would have made Jason nervous had he not been so busy downstairs – those two were as thick as thieves whenever they got together, no doubt planning some sinister operation to take over the world or double the amount of shoes in their closet, whichever one seemed more important at the moment.

The redhead finally left when it was closing time, saying she had to get back home before Johnny thought she was murdered by the mob and ended up combing the river for her body. The newspaper at which he worked had recently played a significant role in the battle between law enforcement and the Port Charles mafia by exposing several police officers that were on the payroll, and her husband had been fairly high-strung in the past week.

Elizabeth was sprawled out across her bed, her feet dangling off one end and her arms dangling off the other, and her hair was a wild riot of curls as she buried her face in the pale blue comforter. She was tired but not sleepy, bored but not strong enough to do something. All in all, she wasfeeling pretty _blah._

Jason's footsteps on the stairs perked her up, and she lifted her head, sapphire blue eyes peeking out from under her bangs at the door. He grinned sympathetically when he saw her, understanding her boredom and fatigue. The sky had been black for hours now and the room was dim, lit only by the small lamp on her night table, and the golden light made her pale skin glow.

"How you doing?"

"Not too great. I'm bored."

"You're tired."

She sighed and rolled over on her stomach, unknowingly exposing her midriff to him and not noticing how his eyes instantly flew to her cute little bellybutton. "Tired, maybe. Sleepy? No."

"Tell you what," Jason began, crossing his arms over his solid chest and forcing his gaze to meet hers, cute bellybutton be damned. "Let me change and grab my Italy book, and I'll come back here and keep you company."

That brightened her mood a bit and Elizabeth craned her head back, letting it dangle off the edge of her bed, as she peered up at his upside-down figure. "But you have to work tomorrow."

"No, I don't."

She'd never heard that before and it made her roll over on to her stomach. "Bobbie gave you the day off? Really?"

Jason shrugged, smirking when she kicked her feet in excitement. "Yeah. She said I looked tired and called in Luke."

"Oh, man, Luke's gonna be here tomorrow?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes gleaming with happiness. Luke Spencer was Bobbie's oldest and best friend since childhood, and he ran a blues club in town that he was very rarely at, and used to work at Kelly's once himself. Besides always sneaking her spiked coffee, which the little brunette appreciated very much on cold and crazy winter mornings, the man made a kick-ass bowl of chili. "That's great! I love him!"

Jason quirked a brow at her. "Should I be jealous?"

Somehow, Elizabeth managed not to melt. "Yes."

He rolled those piercing cerulean eyes of his and shuffled back a step. "All right, fine. I'll be back in a minute."

As soon as his back was turned, Elizabeth's dry lips curled into a wicked smile. "Oh, Jason?"

He looked at her over his shoulder, his hand on the knob. "Yeah?"

"I think I might have left some of my stuff in your room," she purred innocently, toying with a loose thread on her comforter. "If you see any of my shopping bags there, could you bring 'em?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied easily, already out in the hall. "I'm sorry – I meant to bring them by earlier but I forgot."

"Not a problem at all," she muttered as he disappeared. "Not a problem at _all_."

* * *

He had just changed into his pajamas – a black t-shirt and matching sweatpants – and brushed his teeth, and Jason was about to grab his travel book and head back to Elizabeth's room. It was almost morbid, but he liked the idea of her being stuck in one place and having nothing to do – he enjoyed the time he got to spend with her as a result of that. Whether it be feeding her soup or beating her at cards, he couldn't remember when he had enjoyed anyone's company as much as he enjoyed Elizabeth's.

Another thing he had noticed was that he just couldn't manage to keep his hands off of her. He had tried to restrain himself at first, not wanting to head back down that path once more only to see it blow up in his face – _again_ – but over time, he just couldn't resist holding her hand, playing with her hair, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. It worried him but at the same time, it excited him. He had never been too big on foreplay in general with any of his other former girlfriends – if they could be called that – but with her, even the simplest twining of their fingers seemed oddly erotic.

Sweeping one hand through his unruly spikes, Jason spotted his travel book sitting on the edge of his dresser and snagged it, but not without accidentally kicking over the shopping bags that he had once again failed to notice despite her reminder.

Swearing under his breath, Jason dropped the book on his bed and knelt to pick up whatever it was she had bought. Hopefully, it was nothing fragile.

He could have sworn that his heart skipped two beats the moment he cleared away the jasmine-scented pink tissue paper to retrieve whatever lay underneath it. There, dangling from his long fingers, was a pair of sheer black French-cut panties.

Jason dropped them instantly, almost as if they burned to his touch, and just stared at the scrap of black cloth that now lay on his carpet. Next to it, he saw another pair of bright red lace boy shorts. And then a pair of underoos with a picture of some cartoon cat on them, dark blue satin panties, a black garter, blue and pink lace boyshorts…holy shit.

He had never been a very religious man, but he had a feeling that all the underwear on the floor in front of him was breaking _some_ sort of commandment.

Champagne colored silk panties and a matching bra. A pair of comfortable cotton boxers with little hearts on them. Dark red hot shorts. A pale blue camisole trimmed in cream-colored lace and matching silk boxers. A plethora of cotton panties with everything from flowers to stripes to little firecrackers. Hot pink cotton panties with bright green trim and a matching bra. A soft, skimpy tank top that proclaimed in big red letters, _Boy Watch_.

Feeling like a pervert but unable to stop himself, Jason held his breath and reached for a scrap of silk that lay across his bare foot. Slipping one finger under the pink strap, he slowly lifted it up and groaned aloud at what he saw.

A pale pink silk nightgown.

Oh, that settled it – he was freaking screwed.

* * *

She was counting the dots on the ceiling when Jason showed up half an hour later, dressed in his pajamas and armed with his favorite travel book. "Hey, stranger," she smiled, eyeing the shopping bags he held. The tissue was rumpled and looked as if it had been haphazardly stuffed into the top of the bag, and she had to try with all her might to keep her vicious grin in check. "What took you so long?"

He shrugged nonchalantly but she noticed the tense set of his shoulders. "It hasn't been that long, has it?"

She averted her gaze before he could see the amusement in her twinkling eyes. "I thought I heard the shower running."

Thought, nothing – she had heard him come swearing out of his room in a huff and stomp directly to the bathroom, and had cackled and hooted and guffawed until her stomach hurt.

"Yeah, I thought I'd wash up before I came over," he replied with feigned indifference as he climbed onto her bed and sat atop the comforter with his book in his hand. "Did you want anything?"

Well, she wanted to see the look on his face when he stumbled onto her new purchases, but she couldn't very well say that. "I'm good. Thanks for bringing my stuff over – sorry I left it in your room."

Not as sorry as he was. A half hour shower had barely done the trick.

"No problem."

She buried her face in her pillow, determined not to let him see her grinning otherwise the game would most definitely be over. When she had composed herself, Elizabeth peeked out at him and noticed him flipping through his book. "What're you going to read to me about?"

"Venice," he announced, turning the book toward her so that she could see the glossy picture of the Grand Canal.

"I've always wanted to go to Venice," she sighed, turning on her side and snuggling closer.

Jason quirked a brow at her. "Really?"

The brunette nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah. My professor for watercolors – you know, that class where I have to do that painting of the dancers – tells us about Venice. He's been there about three or four times, and he says that the light there is unlike anywhere else in the world."

He could feel himself being sucked into her rich, expressive eyes that glowed when she talked of the Italian island. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded against his bicep, snaking one hand into the crook of his elbow. "He says that the light and water there – like at the Grand Canal – work together to create this restless magic, and that all borders are eradicated somewhere between dreams and reality. Doesn't that sound beautiful?" He nodded and the little brunette cuddled closer, her eyes still on the picture of the Ponte Vecchio. "I'm gonna go there someday."

Jason smiled softly at that and slid down from the headboard, making it easier for her to see the pages. "I know you will." She smiled at that and rested her chin on his shoulder, her soft breath fluttering against his neck, and implored him to read with those magical blue eyes.

He picked a passage and began. "The sestieri are the primary traditional divisions of Venice. The city is divided into the six districts of Cannaregio, San Polo, Dorsoduro – including the Giudecca – Santa Croce, San Marco, and Castello, including San Pietro di Castello and Santa Elena."

Elizabeth's lids were noticeably heavy as she snuggled closer, her silky hair tickling his bare arm. "I like how you say those Italian words," she murmured softly. "They roll right off your tongue."

The compliment made his heart swell and Jason shifted the book to his other hand, untangling his arm from her grasp. She protested softly until he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled her closer, letting her use his chest as a pillow. Burrowing down comfortably into his warmth, Elizabeth let her eyes slowly fall shut as Jason's deep voice met her ears.

"Venice has treasures and pleasures for all tastes," he continued, his hand rubbing her waist soothingly. "The annual Carnivale attracts many tourists and party-goers; those enamored with the sea enjoy the gondolas and the city's beautiful canals; and lovers stroll through the enchanting St. Mark's Square…"

"Mm, more about that," she murmured, curling her fingers into his shirt.

He was certain he had heard her wrong. "More about the lovers?"

Elizabeth's nose rubbed against his chest when she shook her head sleepily. "St. Mark's Square."

Shifting slightly when her slender leg draped itself over his shin, Jason tucked the little brunette's head under his chin and flipped with one hand to the passage she wanted. Her breathing was slow and even, and he could tell she was almost completely asleep.

"St. Mark's Square, often known by its Italian name of Piazza San Marco, is the town square of Venice, Italy. The Square has always been seen as the centre of Venice. It was the location of all the important offices of the Venetian state, and has been the seat of the bishopric since the nineteenth century. It was also the focus for many of Venice's festivals."

Elizabeth shifted in her sleep, pulling up even closer, and buried her face in the warm cavern of his neck. One of her arms wrapped snugly around his waist and Jason relaxed under the light pressure of her body, struck once more by how right it all felt.

"St. Mark's Square is very popular with tourists, photographers, and pigeons."

* * *

She was still sleeping when he awoke the next morning, and Jason discovered that as the night had passed, the brunette beauty had crawled on top of him and was now draped across his body. He wasn't innocent himself, though – his own arm was wound securely around her tiny waist, the other hand loosely tangled in her rich mane of chocolate silk. Their legs were tangled together and he could feel her toes brush against the golden hair of his calves as he stretched languidly.

Quietly, and doing his best not to disturb her, Jason pressed a quick kiss to her temple and slipped out from underneath her. She moaned a little, protesting the loss of his body heat, but soon wrapped the warm comforter around herself, forming a pale blue cocoon, and drifted off to sleep once more.

Jason stepped out into the hallway, yawning and running a hand through his tousled spikes, and he didn't notice Lisa and Jen come out of the bathroom. Both girls stared at him, glanced at the slightly ajar door to Elizabeth's bedroom, stared at each other, stared at him once more, and then promptly disappeared back into the bathroom.

Entirely oblivious, Jason shuffled to his room and quickly changed into his jeans. The bathroom was empty and he hurriedly brushed his teeth, attempting to comb his unruly hair before giving up altogether, and tumbled down the stairs to secure some breakfast for himself and his sleeping beauty.

He figured she was well enough for pancakes and slipped into the kitchen, coming face to face with Luke. The old man was wearing a tall Chef's hat that was too ludicrous to serve any practical purpose along with the Kiss the Cook apron Elizabeth was always trying to get him to wear, and he grinned at the younger man.

"What's shakin', kid?"

"Morning," Jason mumbled in reply. "Nothing much, Luke."

"Chin up," the older man advised merrily, straightening his tall hat. "Things'll perk up. Ooh, speaking of perking up, there's the coffee!"

Jason shook his head as Luke bustled out of the kitchen and quickly set to work making pancakes. Before long, he had a little stack of them along with one mug of hot chocolate and one of coffee for himself. Without waiting for Luke, Jason stepped out of the kitchen and ascended the steps, barely hearing Lisa and Jen chuckle behind his back.

Elizabeth was half-awake when he got back and they shared a quiet breakfast together. She was more than grateful for the pancakes, understanding now better than ever his previous gripes about not being allowed any 'real food'.

Jason cleared away the dishes and set them on the dresser as Elizabeth carelessly swept her silky, mussed locks back into a ponytail. "You wanna watch a movie?"

He shrugged, eyeing the little black television in her room. "Which one?"

"See the one sitting right there, under my pink nail polish?"

The mention of the nail polish – coupled with the memory of stumbling onto her pink nightgown the night before – instantly reminded Jason of his most recent X-rated dream of her, and the older man quickly scrubbed a hand over his face. "This one?"

"Yeah, slip that in," she directed, settling back happily against her pillows. "Em brought it over for me yesterday but I didn't watch it then. Man, I haven't seen this one in forever!"

He slid the movie into the VCR and grabbed the remote, flopping down on the bed next to her. "Which one is it?"

"The West Side Story," she sighed, leaning one shoulder against his. "Natalie Wood is amazing in this."

He had never seen it before so he didn't have any complaints – he just hoped it wasn't some sort of chick flick, although he had a feeling that he'd sit through it even if it was, just to please Elizabeth. That was just how whipped he was.

But the movie wasn't that bad, and though Jason hardly saw the point in bursting into song every seven minutes, he liked the way Elizabeth sang along. They were in the middle of a scene at the dance hall where the director and cameraman were both apparently having some LSD-induced visions when her cellphone rang, and Elizabeth motioned for him to pause the movie as she reached for it.

Jason stretched out as she answered it, unable to keep from hearing her end of the conversation. "Hello? Oh, Drew, hi. It's great to hear from you."

Drew? Who the hell was _Drew_? And why was it so great to hear from him?

He eyed her curiously as she grinned into the scarlet cell phone.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, did that work out for you okay? It did? Good, good, I'm glad! Hey, don't be silly – anytime! Whenever you need me, just ring my bell."

That sounded rather dirty, and Jason didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Look, I'm just glad I was able to help you out. Return it? Well…actually, I'm not really doing so well right now, so I don't think you should stop by the diner."

Damn straight, this Drew character shouldn't stop by the diner – now or ever.

"Tell you what – just give my notes to Penny, and she'll make sure they get back to me. If you ever need anything else…"

Jason frowned at the wall in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest, hunkering down on the bed. If _Drew_ ever needed anything else, then _Drew_ should just get it himself. What the hell happened to self-reliance?

"Aw, you already thanked me, hon. Really, it's all right."

Hon? She was calling this loser 'hon' now?

"Well, like I said, I'm a little under the weather right now, so I don't think I'm up for dinner tomorrow night."

Damn straight, she wasn't up for dinner tomorrow night – or any night.

"But how about I take a rain check?"

His head snapped around and Jason stared at the oblivious little brunette, a sour taste invading his mouth when he saw how she was smiling into the phone – smiling for _Drew_.

"How about Friday night? Does that work?"

Jason glowered at her, a feeling of dread slowly coming over him.

"All right, that's great. Pick me up here at eight-thirty? Fabulous. See you then – you take it easy, stud."

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. And the worst part was knowing that he had no logical reason to feel that way.

Elizabeth turned back to him with an easy smile, thinking to herself that she had been quite lucky – they didn't even need Johnny's help in wrangling up her first unsuspecting date; she had done it on her own! Her long fingers grabbed the remote from his limp grip and pressed Play. As the number continued and Tony and Maria danced gracefully across the screen, the little brunette let her head rest lightly on Jason's suddenly tense shoulder.

"You know," he heard her start with a soft yawn. "I like this. I like that we can spend the whole day in bed together and not have it be weird."

One solid punch to the gut, followed by a clean roundhouse kick. Game over – total knock-out.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

Friday arrived despite the best of Jason's efforts, and with it came Elizabeth's date.

She had recovered nicely from the flu, which meant no more late-night reading sessions, no more soup, no more falling asleep in her bed and having a plausible excuse for it the next morning. Friday found Jason in an irritable mood and after putting in half a day's worth of work at Kelly's, he let Luke take over and rode his bike to the garage. Bobbie had suggested that Luke sub in for him occasionally so that he could spend some time working one-on-one with Max and the crew on his new garage, and though it did cut into his pay a little bit, the opportunity cost was much higher.

Emily arrived just as he was leaving, and she was fairly certain that her best friend's secret flame directed a scowl and a growl in her direction as he stormed past her. But that wasn't important, and the little redhead quickly pushed the thought from her mind and joined her best friend for a late lunch where they quickly went over all necessary details to drive Jason crazy.

Elizabeth had already filled her in on her special chat with Drew a few days ago – she had called her classmate back and told him point-blank that although she was sure he was a lovely boy, she wasn't interested in pursuing any sort of romantic relationship with him because there was kinda-sorta someone else. Her unruffled friend replied simply that it was fine with him; he only wanted to take her out to thank her for saving his butt in school. Thrilled that he was on her side, Elizabeth filled him in on some of the broader details of her plan and even managed to garner Drew's full support, provided that he could borrow her notes on a few lectures that he had missed when his band had been practicing for an audition at L&B.

After giggling and whispering over some chili and buttered bread, Elizabeth and Emily were fairly certain that they had the whole thing down pat. Lisa and Jen drifted into the diner on their way back from their own classes and the two girls immediately snagged their ears and worked them in as well.

When seven o'clock rolled around, it was time to get to work. The girls returned to their own room to lounge around; they weren't due onstage for a while yet. Elizabeth and Emily, on the other hand, went straight to her room, picked out her outfit, and rehearsed what had now become a little skit for when Jason returned.

The mechanic was back at around seven-thirty and strode directly to his room without stopping to talk to anyone. He had done his best to keep busy and therefore keep himself from thinking about Elizabeth and her date with that _Drew_ loser, but had been forced to return home when the crew packed up and left for the night. He didn't have a clue as to what he was going to do now, but he'd think of something.

Things had been quiet for a little while before a loud scream met his ears – Elizabeth.

"HELP!"

Instantly, he was on his feet and barreling out his door, ready to spring into action if the little brunette needed him. She was standing in the hallway as he came rushing out, and Jason nearly tumbled over his own feet as he skidded to a stop. Next door, Lisa and her sister had poked their heads out of their own individual rooms and now stepped into the hall as well, winking discreetly at each other. Show time.

"What's wrong?" Jen asked quickly, swiping her dark blonde bangs out of her face. "What happened?"

"I need your opinion!" Elizabeth burst out, raising her arms in exasperation. "I can't figure out what I'm going to wear tonight!"

Seth poked his head out of his room and looked from one girl to the next. "What's going on? Can't you girls keep it down?"

"We're trying to help Lizbits get dressed for her hot date tonight," Lisa frowned, barely managing to get the 'hot date' part out with a straight face. Tonight was anything _but_ that, and everyone except Jason knew it.

"Oh." Pursing his lips, the young man leaned his shoulder against his doorjamb and watched the scene before him.

"Okay, do you think this dress is a bit much?" Elizabeth asked, twirling around in the v-necked red dress that fell just above her knees. "Because I think it's a bit much."

Jason was frowning darkly at the thought of her wearing that for some other man when a very smug-looking Emily Bowen waltzed out of his neighbor's bedroom.

"Personally, I think it's smokin'," she announced, not trusting herself to look in Jason's direction. "We've gotta show off those killer legs of yours – I'm telling you, Drew won't know what hit him!"

Oh, that was it – Jason _definitely_ hated the dress. It was a pity, though, because it really was a very sexy little dress.

He was about to stomp back into his room and slam the door when Lisa's voice stopped him cold. "Hey, Liz, don't you have a pair of black fishnets? You should totally wear those!"

Holy fuck. He _loved_ girls in fishnets.

"Isn't it a bit cold for that?" Seth wondered, scratching his jaw. "I mean, I know it's April, but it's still pretty cold at night. That dress thing is probably a little too short to wear in this kind of weather."

That settled it – Seth was his new best friend.

"Yeah, you're right," Emily frowned, nibbling on her finger. "All right, Elizabeth, off with the dress."

The brunette quickly ducked back into her room to change into the next outfit they had planned, trusting Lisa, Jen, and Emily to stall Jason and keep him in the hallway until she got back, according to the plan. And the girls didn't disappoint.

Jen seemed to know exactly what to say to make Jason stand rooted to the ground. "It's too cold for a miniskirt, then, right? Because I was thinking that the little black leather one you have would've looked wicked cute."

"I'm telling you, she's definitely got the legs for it," Emily added, suppressing a devilish smirk as Jason paled visibly. "If I wasn't your best friend, Liz, I'd totally be jealous. Oh, hell, who am I kidding – I _am_ jealous!"

The brunette rushed back into the hallway, flushed and a little out of breath, but very relieved that the girls had managed to hold on to Jason while she changed. The older man's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw what she was wearing. A slim fitting brown pencil skirt with a slit down the back clung to her feminine curves and fell an inch or so beneath her knees, and she had tucked a thin, white oxford shirt into its waistband. But that wasn't what had him so flustered.

"No good, Lizbits," Lisa groaned. "You can totally see your bra through it."

"And you're wearing _bright red_?" Jen was sure to ask incredulously. "That thing can be seen from the moon – right along with the Great Wall of China! Didn't you have _any_ other color?"

Elizabeth shrugged guiltily. "Well, I haven't done my laundry yet, so…no."

"No big deal," Emily shrugged, leaning back against the wall a foot away from a very tense Jason. "Just go without a bra."

Jason wanted to throttle her.

Thankfully, Lisa seemed to have a shred of common sense. "That shirt's too thin to go bare," she remarked. "Change out of it, Liz."

This time, Jason knew he had to get safely back behind his door before the little brunette appeared once more. He was just about to reach for his doorknob when Jen intercepted him, doing her best to try to remain casual.

"Hey, Jason, how's your garage coming?" she asked, whisking her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ears. "I meant to ask you about that."

"It's fine," he replied curtly, trying to step around her, but Jen's twin sister was quicker.

"I bet you'll be happy when it's back up and running," she announced loudly, letting Elizabeth know that she had to hurry if she wanted Jason to see her. "You can get out of Kelly's and go back to doing what you really do."

"I'm ready!"

Jason's eyes involuntarily turned back to Elizabeth, and he just wanted to groan aloud. The slim wisp of a brunette was wearing the same snug-fitting pencil skirt, lavender round-toe pumps that added three inches to her height and showed off the delicate curve of her calves, and a thin lavender v-neck sweater…with a very low neck.

"Think this is good?" she asked, twirling around in front of them and making sure to add a little swish to her hips. "It's a bit reserved with the skirt and the shoes, but the neck totally adds a racy look to it."

"Hold it," Emily interrupted, beckoning her closer. When Elizabeth stepped up to her best friend, the redhead grasped the thin material of her sweater and tugged it down a bit, baring her shoulder. "Good," she smiled, pleased. "You ditched the bra. Perfect."

Jason wanted to bang his head against the wall.

"You look great," Jen and Lisa chirped in unison, both of them sneaking discreet looks at Jason's tensed features.

"Don't you think you'll be a bit cold in that sweater?" Seth wondered aloud, making Jason want to rush right up and declare the man a hero.

But Elizabeth shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"Whatever," the young man shrugged, turning back to his room. "You have fun, kid."

"Oh, I will," the brunette made sure to grin suggestively as the other girls giggled. "Lemme just grab a purse – Jen, can I borrow your clutch tonight?"

Jason frowned as the girls continued to chit-chat and was about to return to his room when Renee floated up the steps. She had only one line to deliver, and she was going to do it with perfect timing.

"Hey, Jason?"

"What?"

The redhead wasn't deterred by his irritated growl. "Is the paprika finished?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Well, aren't you the cook?" she replied reasonably. "I just wanted to know if we were out of paprika in the kitchen."

The mechanic took a deep breath, reminding himself not to take his frustration out on an innocent coworker whose only crime was asking him a question when he wanted to run outside and plow this _Drew_ character over with his bike…and then reverse and do it again. "I don't think so."

Renee was watching Elizabeth transfer her items quickly into Jen's clutch, knowing that timing was everything. "Well, Luke's trying to make us all chili down there, and he can't find the paprika. I tried looking but couldn't, either – do you think you could take a quick look?"

Jason growled under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine." At least it would get him away from all the girls. He stalked past Renee and thundered down the stairs, not noticing how the tall redhead grinned at her friends before tumbling down after him.

Luke was in the kitchen working on the chili when Jason came in and located the missing ingredients. The older man stalled him for a few minutes but Jason was determined to get out of there. He had just stepped back into the diner when the front door opened and a young man stepped in.

"Liz!" His green eyes were trained to the stairs and when Jason turned his head, he saw a smiling Elizabeth practically float down the steps in that snug skirt and the low-cut blouse. "Hey, babe – you ready to go?"

A sour taste invaded his mouth as Jason once again set his sights on the young deviant. So this was _Drew._ The man was a few inches shorter than him and he wore baggy, dark denim jeans, the edges of which were frayed. A pair of polished black loafers poked out from under the cuffs, and he wore a black blazer over a fitted navy t-shirt reading _Two-Fisted Eliot._

"Hey, Drew," the brunette grinned, fluttering right past Jason and up to her date for the evening. "You're right on time."

"I couldn't keep a pretty little thing like you waiting," he replied with a wink, making Jason want to bash his head into the wall. Emily slipped past him, carefully suppressing a wicked smirk and grabbed her own coat and purse while waving at Drew.

"Hey there, stranger."

"Emily, hi," Drew smiled as he helped Elizabeth with her coat. "How've you been?"

"Pretty good," she replied, adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "I haven't seen you in a while – by the way, love the shirt."

"Thanks," he grinned, pulling back his lapels so that they could all see it. "The guys and I finally settled on a design – check it out, it's our new logo."

"For the band, you mean?" Emily asked innocently, sliding a discreet glance in Jason's direction. "That's great – very cool. Elizabeth told me you guys were auditioning for L&B a while ago. How'd that work out?"

"We're on the label," Drew grinned, making sure to snake his arm around Elizabeth's waist. His classmate had told him briefly about Jason – actually, she had just mentioned his name and the fact that he owned his own garage – but had he actually known what the man looked like, he might not have agreed. Standing at an impressive 6'3", Jason Morgan was one intimidating son of a bitch. But Elizabeth had asked his help, and she was a sweet girl that had always been very nice to him, and he had agreed. The murderous look in Jason's blue eyes made him gulp, and Drew was about to withdraw his hand when Elizabeth placed hers on top of his and laced their fingers together.

"Doing any gigs soon?"

"Yeah, we just got new instruments, too," he nodded. "You should see my axe, Liz – it's fucking awesome. We're all set to do a gig at the Cellar next week."

Jason frowned, narrowing his eyes. So this _Drew_ loser was a guitar player. A musician. It made him scoff. Elizabeth was way out of that little boy's league. Seriously – a _guitar player?_

Elizabeth seemed to notice him all of a sudden as he stood glowering a few steps away and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, man, I forgot to introduce you guys. Jason, this is Drew Hunter – he's in my class and he's the lead singer for _Two-Fisted Eliot_."

"Nice to meet you," the little punk had the audacity to say.

"And Drew-" Jason's jaw tightened when Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his waist and placed her hand lightly on the dark-haired man's chest. "This is my friend Jason."

Emily held her breath, not knowing what to expect. The situation was easing close to volatile and it completely shocked her – there seemed to be more going on between Jason and Elizabeth than perhaps anyone knew. Jason didn't plan on saying anything in reply to the little punk, but with Elizabeth's expectant and pleading eyes on him, he could feel his resolve weakening.

"Hey."

Drew nodded at the gruff grunt, somewhat relieved that it hadn't been a punch. He glanced down at his watch and tightened his hold on Elizabeth's waist, shaking her slightly. "Hey, babe, we better get going – we've got a reservation. It was nice seeing all of you."

Elizabeth flashed Emily and Jason a smile before she linked her arm through Drew's, and Jason could only watch as she floated out of the diner.

* * *

Jason had been up in his room going over the plans for the garage ever since Elizabeth left. He had stormed upstairs, not particularly caring about being discreet, and slammed the door so hard the walls rattled. He didn't know what he was feeling and he didn't think he had any rational reason for feeling it, and that only made him angrier. The plans lay before him and he would periodically scratch his pencil over the thin paper, making small notes for him and Max to go over when they met again tomorrow. The garage was really shaping up and he knew he'd be able to move into it in a month or so, and that was welcome news because it would get him out of Kelly's and away from the insanity.

Hopefully.

He glanced up at the clock and was appalled at how late it was – and Elizabeth still wasn't home. That _Drew_ loser better not have tried something. The mere thought made his blood boil and Jason was quickly chiding himself to get a grip – she was probably at the studio. Nothing to worry about.

The pencil smacked down on top of his desk as Jason let it go and pushed himself onto his feet. He needed coffee. Well, actually, he needed something strong and stiff, but coffee was the best he could do at the moment.

He took the stairs down and went straight into the kitchen. One of the girls had left the pot out and it didn't take him long to fix himself a cup. Jason was just about to head upstairs when he heard it – her laughter.

A quick glance out the window revealed the last two people in the world that he wanted to see together – Elizabeth and Drew. She was in his arms and he was apparently twirling her around because she was squealing with laughter and pushing at his chest. He finally stopped and dipped her, and the little brunette wrapped her arms around his neck.

Outside, Elizabeth glanced up at Jason's window. "Okay, that's the one," she got out in a low voice. The light was on so she naturally assumed he was up there – and in perfect range to catch a late show. "Thanks again, man."

"No prob," he replied, glancing up nervously as well. "Hey, can I ask you one thing?"

"What?"

"This Jason guy – he's not going to kill me, is he?"

Elizabeth laughed at that and smacked him against the chest, unaware that Jason was watching. "No, of course not. Why would you say that?"

Her friend shrugged, shifting his hold on her waist. "Well, it was just the way he looked at you before we left."

The brunette's slender brows furrowed. "How did he look at me?"

"He looked at you like you were his," Drew replied matter-of-factly, "and I was a criminal."

She slid him a skeptical grin as she pulled up closer. "No way – he couldn't have."

He knew that they were moving in for a kiss just in case Jason happened to look out his window but before their noses could brush together, Drew looked down at her seriously. "Liz, are you sure this guy doesn't have feelings for you? Because I know those looks-"

"He doesn't," she sighed rather sadly. "Trust me – I think I would know."

Drew shrugged and drew in a deep breath. "Ready?"

She nodded and he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She responded instantly and made sure to wrap her arms around his neck. There was a slight chance that Jason did in fact hear them laughing and would peek outside his window – and this was what Emily was insistent upon him seeing. How exactly did she phrase it? Something about lighting a fire under his ass?

Drew folded her up in his arms as she ran a hand through his dark hair, musing over how different it was from Jason's. Everything about Jason was different – his build, for one thing. Drew had a practically feminine frame compared to Jason's six feet three inches of solid muscle. The man was a freaking wall of concrete. He just had a way of making her feel so safe, like nothing could touch her while she was around. And although she had been living on her own for years now and was used to watching out for herself, it was still a nice feeling, to know that someone had her back when she was down and out.

Drew's body was also softer than Jason's – he probably didn't have time to work out between all his auditions and rehearsals. His chest, though solid, was nothing compared to the hard muscles she had slept sprawled across when she had been sick – and when he had been sick, Elizabeth remembered with a little blush. Drew's lips weren't like Jason's either – but then again, maybe her memory was just foggy. After all, it had been quite a while since she had felt those lips on hers – never since that steamy make-out session in the kitchen. She had dreamt one night about kissing him – they had been lying together in bed and she had dreamt of waking up to find his lips on hers. But that was only a dream – a realistic dream, but still a dream at that.

Satisfied that their little show had gone on long enough, Elizabeth pulled away and flashed her date a smile. "Thanks for everything, Drew."

"No problem, Liz," he replied easily. She noticed him cast a few nervous glances at the diner. "Look – you _sure_ this Morgan guy won't come after me? Positive?"

Elizabeth rolled her midnight blue eyes "Good_bye_, Drew."

"Later, Webber."

She watched him leave and then slipped her key into the lock, pushing the door open. No sooner had she stepped into the kitchen than her eyes were arrested by Jason's.

"Oh!" She nearly jumped a foot in the air. "Jason! Jeez, you surprised me! What are you doing up?"

His intense eyes looked oddly haunted, and the older man gestured vaguely to the almost empty cup of coffee in his vice-like grip. "I was just…getting some coffee." Yeah, and an eyeful. Elizabeth and that loser had been making out for longer than he cared to remember. He could hear them talking, although he couldn't make out the words and was mostly glad. No doubt that loser was singing her sweet little lies. Jackass.

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling surprisingly awkward. "Well, I should get upstairs. I'm exhausted."

Now that was the last thing he wanted to hear. Jason frowned slightly as she walked past him. He was about to follow her when the little brunette suddenly pivoted on her high heeled lavender pumps and collided with his chest.

Instantly, Jason reached out to steady her and found his hands coming to a natural rest on her tiny waist. "What? What is it?"

She was blushing under the dim light as she slowly untangled herself from his arms. "Oh, um, it's nothing. You go on up – don't let me keep you."

His sandy brows furrowed. "Did you need something?"

Elizabeth toyed with her bottom lip, her eyes darting around the kitchen. "Well, actually…I'm kinda hungry."

He blinked at her. Didn't that Drew loser spend a nickel and feed her? What was wrong with the little shit? "Didn't you already eat?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah, but that was before the movie. It's been about four hours!"

Jason was staring at her. "So?"

She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "Well, I'm hungry, Jason!"

The mechanic shook his head in amusement. It didn't matter what time of the day it was or what she had been doing – the little brunette could pack food away like nobody's business. He had no clue where it all went – she weighed about the same as one of his legs – but it had to go _somewhere_. "How about some pancakes?"

Her grin seemed to light up the dim diner as she looped her arm through his, kicked off her ridiculous shoes, and floated back into the kitchen with him. "See? This is why I love you so much – you feed me."

* * *

From the minute Johnny O'Brien stepped into the cozy little diner, he smelled trouble. Being a newspaper editor gave him a nose for these things, and he could tell almost instantly that something was afoot. Next to him, his clueless little wife frowned at her cellphone before slipping it back into her purse. "Where do you want to sit?"

He quickly scanned the room. Not near the mother with the three children – that was a disaster waiting to happen. Not near the businessman who was yammering into his phone at a mile a minute – he'd be tempted to rip the headset, ear and all, off of him and run across the diner with the detached ear bouncing gaily behind. What a yutz. Not near the door – too impersonal, too breezy. Not near the counter – most of the spills and trips happened near the counter.

"Here's good," he announced, gently settling a hand at his wife's waist and leading her to the table. She flopped down into her seat and looked around for her friend. "I haven't been here in a while."

"I know," Emily replied smugly. "And it's a good thing you came today, too – now you can finally meet Jason."

"You mean the poor putz that you two are playing mind games with?" Johnny replied dryly. "The kid must be a wreck by now."

"Shh," Emily chided with a playful glitter in her eye. "You be nice, Johnny O'Brien."

"Be nice to the guy I'm helping screw over," her husband drawled, remembering the pretend date he'd arranged between one of his interns – or personal gophers, as they were commonly known – and Elizabeth. "That's great, Em. We're all going straight to Hell for this, you know."

"Well, at least we're consistent," she smiled brightly as she spotted Elizabeth walking over to them. "Oh, Elizabeth! C'mere, c'mere! How was your date last night?"

Elizabeth glanced nervously over her shoulder at Jason who was fixing himself a cup of coffee at the counter with a terribly dark scowl marring his perfect features. Jeez, did Emily _have_ to announce it in front of everyone? Jason had been in a crabby mood since they opened this morning, and she suspected that it was because of the way the girls had worked her over for every detail of her date, making sure to blow it way out of proportion for Jason's benefit. For a man that seemed to have a thick skin…boy, he sure was crabby.

"It was fine," she replied in a smooth voice, hoping that Emily would take the hint.

Her friend looked up at her suspiciously and glanced at Jason before she understood. While there would be much to discuss later, for now she'd let Anger Boy slide and take some pity on him. "That's good – Drew's a great guy. Can you sit and have breakfast with us?"

"Maybe," Elizabeth replied, glancing around the diner. It wasn't as busy as usual, and the customers didn't seem to need anything. "What do you guys want?"

They both ordered the usual and Elizabeth nodded before disappearing with Jason back into the kitchen. Johnny was so engrossed in the paper that he almost didn't notice when the two co-workers returned with the food. The Irishman jumped in his seat when he felt Emily's foot collide with his shin under the table.

"Johnny, honey," she smiled sweetly, "I'd like you to meet someone. This is Jason Morgan. Jason, this is my husband Johnny."

The dark-haired man's mouth nearly fell open when he first laid eyes on his victim. He had been expecting some cocky, oblivious pretty boy type – and Jason Morgan was anything but. He was tall with broad shoulders and dangerous eyes, and Johnny wondered if the man's hands were always curled into fists.

"Uh, hi, Jason, nice to meet you," he got out, extending his hand. Jason accepted it in a firm grip that Johnny swore cut off all circulation to his fingers and after a grunt that was supposed to pass as both a salutation and a goodbye, the man stormed off into the kitchen.

"Well," the Irishman got out, quirking a brow at his wife and her best friend. "He's a regular cup of sunshine – congratulations there, Elizabeth."

While Emily glared at her husband, Elizabeth glanced back nervously at the swinging green doors that led into the kitchen. Inside, Jason could be heard slamming things. Hard. She slouched back in her seat as Emily and Johnny argued about who was going to be sent to a deeper malebolge of the City of Dis by the time this plan was over and havoc was wreaked. She should have been feeling excited – the first phases of the Light A Fire Under His Ass operation were a resounding success. Her no-strings-attached date had worked like a charm and Jason did seem to be furious. But she couldn't help but wonder as he thundered around in the kitchen that maybe – just maybe – Drew knew what he was talking about after all.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

It had been a week since her date with Drew, and Elizabeth had been taking it very easy with her volatile co-worker. Jason's choleric mood after the first excursion – which had been a resounding success – was enough to make her feel guilty and back off, even though Emily told her she'd be sure to make more headway if she kept at it until the mechanic's head exploded. But Elizabeth had quickly brushed off that suggestion, thinking that her best friend was most certainly overestimating Jason's feelings for her. He was probably being territorial of his new 'friend' and she could kind of understand that if she tried.

But still, she had eased up on the dates – her second one was with one of Johnny's interns and she taken a rain check on that one until further notice – and resumed the whole buddy-buddy bonding thing. After all, that seemed to show a glimmer of effectiveness; either Jason was slowly seeing her as more than a co-worker, or he was in full on Big Brother mode. She could only pray that it was the former and not the latter.

She turned her stereo up a little louder and slouched back in her chair, crossing both her legs across her handsome wooden desk. Studying sucked pond scum, and Baudrillard sure was a boring old sonofabitch. This was how she had spent the last three nights – holed up in her room with the music going, dressed in her pajamas, trying to wade through French critical theory. But, hell, the stuff was still better than American theory, so she probably didn't have much of a right to complain.

The minutes ticked by slowly – very slowly – and Baudrillard's explanation of the hyperreality that surrounded them began to blend in with the _Les Miserables_ soundtrack she was listening to. It was so cruel – time flew when she was painting or dancing or hanging out with Jason, but when she was in school or doing her homework, it barely managed to limp along.

Presently, there was a knock on her door. Elizabeth ignored it until she heard it again, harder and more urgent this time. "Elizabeth is not home!" she called out, glaring down at the text that stood braced against her thighs. "I'm her exotic, well-trained new pet parrot! Be forewarned – I'm on Atkins so I don't want a cracker, and if you call me Polly, you die!"

"Elizabeth, you hate birds. They scare you ever since you saw that one Hitchcock movie."

Jason's gruff voice made her smile, and Elizabeth slid her legs off the top of the desk and went to open the door. Sure enough, there he stood, wearing that dark pair of jeans that she swore was a godsend. The mechanic quirked a brow at her and she rolled her eyes, not noticing how his eyes trailed over her slender form. It hadn't yet crossed her mind that she was wearing only her pajamas – sky blue silk boxers with a matching blue camisole, trimmed with pale tan lace – and that in all actuality, she should be reaching for her robe.

"Fine, Surly McGrouchster, I'll turn my music down." He smirked at her and Elizabeth mimicked the little grin. "What? Isn't that why you almost broke down my door? Please, Jason, I'd like to think that I know you fairly well by now and am quite familiar with your profound dislike of anything cheerful or French. Fine, I'll turn the music down."

He just shook his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and braced one hand against the frame of her door. "Get dressed."

She blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"Get dressed." Man, he couldn't believe he was saying that. She looked completely delectable dressed in those silky pajamas, with her curly brown hair tied up in two cute little pigtails. He wouldn't mind taking _that_ to bed every night, that was for sure. It was the same pair of pajamas he'd seen in her little shopping bags, and he offhandedly began to wonder if she had gotten around to wearing that pink nightie. That was the main reason he regretted ever seeing the contents of those bags; every time he looked at her now, he found himself mentally undressing her and wondering what kind of underwear she wore. And that was not a healthy habit – for him, his right hand, or the cold water supply at Kelly's.

Elizabeth looked up at him like he had lost his mind. "Why?"

Jason rolled his eyes and leaned his hip against the threshold of the door, crossing his feet at the ankles, and didn't notice how she cast an appreciative glance at the denim that now stretched snugly across him. "Because we're going out."

The brunette frowned at him, not liking the way he was taunting her with the promise of fun and merriment when she had to study at all. "Jason, are you crazy? I can't go out – I have to get through this Baudrillard crackpot by noon tomorrow!"

He tilted his head, practically daring her to defy him. "I said, get dressed. We're going out." The little brunette had been cloistered away in her room all week and he wanted to get her out of the cramped diner for a little while.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Didn't you hear me? I can't go anywhere until I understand this hyperreality junk, and right now, I still have no fricking clue!"

This time, it was Jason's turn to roll his eyes. "The hyperreal is the result of a real without origin or reality – Prisons are the best example. We create prisons to distract from the fact that we're _all _in prison; we're just hiding the fact that the real is no longer real, but hyperreal. There – now get dressed, because we're going out."

She could only stare after him as he left her doorway and returned to his room to get his jacket. Finally forcing her mouth to work, Elizabeth poked her head out of her room and called out to him. "How the heck did you know that?"

"I read," came the simple answer as the older man disappeared into his room. "Better grab a jacket or sweater or something – it's going to be windy."

The brunette just stared at him before softly closing her door and searching for her jeans. She had absolutely no idea what Jason Morgan was planning, but she'd be lying if she said that the idea didn't excite her. Whatever he had in store, she'd trust him and follow his lead.

* * *

Jason grinned at Elizabeth's bubbly laughter as he slowed to a stop and flipped down the kickstand. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his stomach and he could feel her shaking behind him.

"I can't _believe_ I've never been on your bike before!" she squealed excitedly. "I mean, seriously, how did I _live_? Oh, Jason, we were going so fast I couldn't see a thing! It was amazing! You have to take me out riding again sometime – I love it!"

The young woman was still laughing and squealing as he slid off the bike and took off his leather gloves, sticking them in his pocket before offering her his hand. She took it easily, naturally, and let him help her off. He could only watch with a little smile as she struggled with the clasp of her helmet before getting it off, and Jason quickly dropped it in the cab.

"Where are we?" Elizabeth asked, looking around eagerly. "Where do those steps go?"

"It's called Vista Point," he told her, slipping his keys into the pocket of his leather jacket and placing one hand gently on the small of her back to guide her up. "I come here a lot just to think."

She insisted on taking the steps up two at a time, bounding ahead to the top as Jason strode quickly after her. Reaching the final landing, Elizabeth was completely unprepared for the gorgeous view that lay at her feet. "Oh, Jason…"

A small smile ran across his lips as he appeared at behind her, looking over her head at the entire town that lay slumbering underneath them. "Yeah."

"It's so beautiful," she sighed, softly, clasping her hands together as she peered over the railing. "Wow, I've never been this high up before – I've never seen the town this way. It's hard to believe that's Port Charles, you know?" Her gaze fluttered from the office buildings to Harborview Towers in the distance, then finally to the docks and the inky sparkling water of the lake. She could feel the heat from Jason's body behind her and she knew he was close; but what she didn't know was how he stood with his hand poised to fall on her shoulder, then withdrew it at the last possible moment and clasped his hands behind his back. "It's so gorgeous. Like we're the only two people in the world."

She was so close that he could smell her hair, that unique scent of her coconut shampoo and rose conditioner. It would be so easy to wrap his arms around her belly and pull her against him. It would be so easy to stand that way for the rest of the night. But his hands remained clasped safely behind his back and Jason forced his eyes to turn once more to the spectacular view.

"Yeah. It's nice."

Elizabeth turned those wide, magical sapphire orbs upward, peering at him and noticing for the first time _exactly_ how close he was. "You come here often?"

Jason's nod was almost imperceptible. "Yeah, when I need to think." He'd been coming up here a hell of a lot more often since he had befriended her, that was for sure.

"It's peaceful." She smiled softly down at the city. "It's perfect."

"Yeah, it does look nice from up here."

"No," she smiled softly, shaking her head as a light blush stole across her cheeks. "I mean, tonight – it was all perfect. The bike ride, this – how'd you know I needed to get out?"

He shrugged easily, once again sorely tempted to fold her up in his arms under the starlight. "You looked like you could use a break – like you could stand a little freedom."

"Mm," she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself as the city twinkled sleepily beneath her. "I like freedom – I like being free."

Jason's smile was small but quick. "I had a feeling you would."

Elizabeth turned those starry midnight blue eyes up to him once more. "Thank you."

He nodded once, slowly, and could feel himself getting sucked into her. "T-There's another landing up there – up that flight of steps – with those binocular stands. We can go up there if you want."

But the brunette shook her head at him with a content smile before turning back toward the city. "I like it right here."

* * *

"How'd that project of yours go today?" Drew Hunter shifted his grip on the armful of canvases he carried as he and Elizabeth climbed the stairs up to her studio.

"Not too bad," the brunette replied, praying that she could keep her grip on her textbooks, bag, and painting supplies long enough to make it to her door. "Cavenaugh loved my still life's – said I chose interesting subjects and not the standard fruit or flower vase."

"What did you pick?" her friend wanted to know.

"Uh, let's see, this stack of travel books, with the top one opened to a picture of the Piazza in Venice," she started, remembering how she had burst into Jason's room and raided his bookshelf for that one. "A pair of blue jeans crumpled up on the floor next to two empty beer bottles, and…oh, yeah, a motorcycle standing behind Kelly's at night."

"Quite a repertoire you got there, Liz," Drew replied, thanking the Lord when they finally reached her floor.

She smiled at that, thinking to herself that all the still life paintings she had done were somehow related to Jason. She had stolen his books and set them up on her own desk; she had spent two days hanging out in his room studying a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor. A small blush painted her cheeks as she remembered how Jason had camped out all night with her under the starlight just so she could paint his bike in the dark. "I do what I can."

"Hey, I meant to ask you," he started, beginning to feel the loss of circulation in his fingers. "Are you and the girls doing anything for the community fair?"

"The one for the community center?" she asked. "Yeah, Emily and I are manning the bake sale and Renee was saying something about a kissing booth. Why?"

"The guys and I are one of the acts scheduled," he replied proudly. "We got a couple other acts from L&B to take a day off and jam for charity, too, so it should be pretty cool."

"Oh, hey, that's great – so I'll see you there," she smiled happily just as they rounded the corner to her studio. Drew was about to respond affirmatively, but his eyes caught movement nearby and the young man stopped cold, his feet glued to the ground.

"Drew-" Elizabeth frowned at him but as soon as she faced forward once more, the frown slipped off her face and her lips formed a round 'o' of surprise. "Jason!"

The mechanic stood by her studio door dressed in his baggy jeans, scuffed motorcycle boots and leather jackets, and he was glaring daggers at a very pale Drew who had retreated to several steps behind her. Elizabeth glanced back at him and then stepped toward Jason, noticing that the muscle in his jaw was ticking.

"Jason? What are you doing here?"

He directed a scowl in Drew's direction before turning to her and extending his hand. Elizabeth immediately recognized one of her carrying cases tucked under his arm. "Penny said you left this at school – she thought you'd be at Kelly's and I was on my way out, so I thought I'd drop it by." Each word was tense and clipped and as soon as he had spoken his piece, Jason once again turned a harsh glare at a very uncomfortable Drew.

"Oh, thanks," Elizabeth smiled in relief, her mind racing as she tried to figure out the best way to ease the situation. Only one solution came to mind: to get Drew as far away from Jason as possible. "Drew was just helping me get my stuff up here – thanks, man-"

The mechanic didn't wait for her to finish and prowled toward the younger man. Drew could only blink as Jason abruptly grabbed the paintings from his arms, not even flinching under the cumbersome load. "I'll take it from here, _Drew._"

"Uh, sure," he stammered, thankful for the way out as he began backpedaling toward the stairwell. "You got it. I'll see you in school, Eliz-" Another dark glare from Jason. "Er, no, I won't. Bye!"

And with that, he was off, disappearing safely around the corner. Feeling a bit more relaxed now that the situation had been contained, Elizabeth managed to wrestle her key into the lock and push open the door. "Come on in, Jason." He followed her and set the paintings on the table where she motioned. "Welcome to my studio."

After making sure the canvas wouldn't fall off the bench, Jason turned around to survey her abode. The studio, as she called it, was actually quite spacious. It boasted a tiny bathroom, a little stove and refrigerator, and a well-lit area where several easels with half-finished paintings sat. The area then opened up into a hardwood room with mirrored walls that he immediately took to be a little dancing studio. He could just picture her stretching at the bar, dressed in a snug-fitting leotard and shimmering tights.

Elizabeth noticed the direction of his stare and smiled. "Yeah, that's where I practice my ballet. Johnny and a couple of his friends put it up for me back when he and Emily were dating – I think he was just trying to get in good with me," she giggled. "It took them forever to get the bar up, and Emily kept marching around and yelling out orders. It was hilarious."

She motioned to the easels and the benches, one of which he'd set her work upon. "And this is where I paint. Don't look at that stuff, though – it's not good."

One painting in particular caught his eye, and Jason ignored her and walked over to it. "What's this?"

Elizabeth appeared at his side and began to nibble on the nail of her index finger. "That's, uh, a project that I'm supposed to be working on. It's not right – I have to start over."

"What is it?"

"Well, it's supposed to be a couple dancing." Her fingers moved gently across the canvas as if caressing the rich colors. "See this blue, and the streak of black? That's the man. And this pink thing that looks like a fluttering dress? That's a woman. I didn't bother painting the floor; I wanted to make it look like they were dancing on air, completely wrapped up in each other, so I put lots of yellow and orange and red around them to make it look romantic and…I don't know, fiery. I kind of like how it turned out."

He nodded, slowly beginning to see what she was talking about. "If you like it, then why do you have to start all over?"

The brunette sighed heavily. "Well, see, my goal was to paint it so that it looked like they were…you know, lovers. Like they just had to have each other, like nothing else in the world existed except them and this dance and this passion. But…" She was troubling her bottom lip again. "It just looks like they're hugging. That spark isn't there – you know, the passion. I'm going to do it over, and get it right this time."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed how she was concentrating on the painting. Elizabeth really knew what she was doing, and he had no doubt that she was very talented, even though he himself didn't have the ability to judge that one way or another. She herself was very passionate about her work, and it would only be a matter of time before she put that passion down in paint.

"You want something to eat?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "Or drink? I don't have any beer, but I've got juice. Oh, and chocolate milk."

Jason chuckled and reached for his gloves. "It's okay – I have to go, actually."

She actually pouted up at him. "So soon? You just got here, and I haven't seen you in forever – you've been working at the garage so much."

He nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, that's where I'm supposed to be right now. But how about we do something together later? I can drop by here around eight, if that's fine with you."

Elizabeth's grin was quick and brilliant. "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Jason had just finished a shift at the diner and had handed his apron off to Luke when Elizabeth finally appeared after a long day of classes. They had been missing each other for a couple days, and hadn't spent much time together since the night he took her out for another bike ride after talking to Max about the garage.

He was just about to take off when he turned to see her coming up the cobbled walkway. Her messenger bag was slung over her shoulder, her spring jacket was folded over her arm, and she held some sort of foil package in her hands, the contents of which she was greedily wolfing down.

"Hey," she smiled, licking away a dollop of yogurt with a flick of her tongue.

Jason just frowned at what she held in her hands. "What the hell is that?"

"A shawarma," she replied defensively, drawing the food away from him as if he'd reach out and snatch it from her. "It's good."

"You barely know what's in it – I don't know how you're actually _eating_ it."

The brunette pouted up at him. "I do too know what's in it." Jason quirked an eyebrow at her and her frown deepened. "Okay, fine, I don't, but I trust Joy."

"Joy?"

"Joy's Shawarma Shoppe," she replied. "That's where I got it."

Jason did his best to suppress a smirk. Instead, he folded his arms solidly across his chest and fixed her with his most intimidating glare. "And you think this Joy is going to feed you better than I do?"

She couldn't help but laugh out loud. "She might – she's actually much nicer than you. And prettier, too."

"Really?" he teased, lunging for her, and he was rewarded with another squeal of laughter. "Maybe you should ask her to make you pancakes from now on."

That troubling thought sobered her up instantly. "I don't think she'd be too good at that."

"No?" he asked, only the twinkle in his eyes belying his serious expression.

"No," she replied, her lips twisting into a frown. "In fact, I think the only thing that girl knows how to make is shawarmas." She wrapped her fingers around the foil packet and lifted it up to him. "You want a bite?"

Jason blinked down at the proffered food. "No, thanks."

"Oh, come on, take a bite."

He gave in and Elizabeth lifted it to his lips, watching him take a bite that equaled two or three of hers. Jason chewed slowly and she noticed a glob of yogurt on the corner of his mouth. With his hands still on her waist, Elizabeth rose on her toes and swiped her thumb over the yogurt, pressing the digit to his lips and letting him lick it away. Jason was sorely tempted to pull her entire thumb into his mouth and show her what his tongue could _really_ do, but somehow he managed to resist.

"What do you think?" She was peering up at him eagerly.

"Not bad," Jason replied slowly, swallowing the last of it. "Looks like I've got competition."

Elizabeth laughed at that and untangled herself from his arms. "What, you and your pancakes? Never." Patting his shoulder, she slipped past him through the open door into Kelly's. "Go take care of your garage – I'll see you later, Morgan."

* * *

Bobbie Spencer cast a quick glance around Kelly's to make sure all was in order before she turned off the lights and flipped the sign to read Closed. Luke could be heard shuffling around in the kitchen as he put his favorite Chef's hat away and grabbed his jacket. Even though the nights were becoming much warmer and spring was most definitely upon them, her best friend just couldn't go anywhere without his favorite corduroy jacket. "Luke! You coming?"

"One minute, Barbara," he called back. "I'll be right out."

"I'll be outside," she replied, pushing open the door and stepping into the warm night. Bobbie just stood there for a minute, inhaling the warm, misty air that carried with it the fragrant scent of approaching summer. In the faroff distance, she could hear singing, and as she stood and waited, the singing grew louder. Confused, Bobbie turned around and almost instantly came face-to-face with her young nephew as he strode up the cobbled walkway to the diner. "Jason!"

He stopped in his tracks, his wide eyes falling on his aunt. "Aunt Bobbie – what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," she replied pointedly, tipping her chin at the young woman he carried over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. The girl was still singing – something about minks – and her bare feet swayed to the beat. Her sandals, blue flip-flops, dangled from Jason's fingers.

"_Skinamarinkie dinkie dink, skinamarinkie doo," _she sang, sounding suspiciously like Elizabeth Webber. "_I! Love! You! Doo doo doo doo - Skinamarinkie dinkie dink-"_

Bobbie's eyes widened. "Elizabeth? Is that you?"

Jason's quick, terse nod confirmed it, and he motioned for her to take it easy. He had thrown the petite brunette over his shoulder as if she were a doll, and Bobbie could only gape at how comfortable and unconcerned the singing young woman was in her nephew's arms.

"Jason, what happened? What did you do to her?"

He lifted one shoulder in reply, shrugging lamely. "We went out to shoot a few games of pool, had a couple drinks…"

"You ever walked on stilts, Jason?" the brunette interrupted loudly, shifting her little bottom and clapping him once on the back. "It's not that great."

The older redhead was surprised to hear her nephew chuckle as he gently patted the small of Elizabeth's back. "You've told me that several times now."

"Well, you can't hear it enough," she informed him in a slurred voice. "Short people shouldn't ever use stilts." A brief pause. "Were you ever short, Jason? I don't think so. You couldn't have been. You're too tall to have ever been short."

He grinned at her warped logic and shrugged once more, feeling surprisingly guilty under his aunt's glare. The woman was looking at him like he had gone out and gotten Elizabeth plastered on purpose.

"How much did she have, Jason?"

Bobbie frowned when her nephew rolled his eyes. "It couldn't have been more than three beers, Aunt Bobbie – she's a total lightweight."

"Who are you talking to?" the brunette demanded, kicking his thigh lightly with her pink toes. "Ooh, is it that hobo that looks like Ross Perot? God, I love that guy. He thinks my name is Molly. Good man."

Jason's chest rumbled with laughter and he gently shifted his hold on Elizabeth, bringing her down from his shoulder and cradling her in his arms. "You remember my aunt Bobbie, right, Elizabeth?"

The redhead rested her cheek in her hand as the brunette's unfocused eyes met hers. The young woman was clearly drunk, and it was all her nephew's doing, she was certain. Her hair was open and cascaded freely in waves of chocolate silk, and her porcelain skin was lightly flushed. She was dressed in simple blue jeans and a thin white sweater which made her look quite young, and Bobbie had to admit the little brunette looked very comfortable indeed from her lofty perch in Jason's strong arms.

"Hi!" Elizabeth sang out gaily with an exaggerated wave. The alcohol had clearly done away with her depth perception because she just narrowly missed swiping Bobbie in the face. Doing her best to suppress a chuckle, the older woman grabbed the small hand in her wrinkled one and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I like your hat."

Jason smirked when his aunt frowned and patted her red hair. She wasn't wearing a hat.

Luke Spencer chose that moment to come sailing out of the diner, and the old man stopped cold behind his best friend when he saw who had joined her out front. His bewildered gaze traveled from Jason to Elizabeth and then back again, and the mechanic shifted his weight from foot to foot under the older man's suspicious eyes. "What's going on here?"

Elizabeth craned her neck in the direction of his voice and then excitedly turned her face into Jason's, smacking him on the chest. "Oh, Jason, it's Luke! I love Luke!"

"What the fuck did you do to her, Morgan?" the old man burst out, quickly stepping past Bobbie and cupping Elizabeth's cheek. "Jesus Christ – she should be lying down on a sponge!"

"I'm not-" Her indignant sputter was stopped short with a hiccup. "-drunk. I'm…what was the word again, Jason? Oh, yeah – trashed. I'm trashed. Whoo."

Luke could only shake his head at his favorite little waitress. "Darlin'-"

"And it's all Jason's fault, too," she announced loudly, wrapping one arm around his neck. "He's a bad boy, Luke – I don't think you should make him any of your chili. You'd better give it to me instead."

Jason was smirking down at her as Luke shook his head. "Get her upstairs and make sure she drinks plenty of water," the older man instructed sternly, wagging his finger in Jason's face. The mechanic almost laughed aloud when Elizabeth, fascinated by Luke's rapidly moving digit, tried to grab it and failed repeatedly.

"I will," he assured both his aunt and the overprotective cook. "Goodnight."

Bobbie pursed her lips as Jason reached for the doorknob while trying to maintain his grip on little Elizabeth. The way her nephew handled her wasn't lost on the older redhead – around the brunette, Jason was tender and light-hearted. She put a smile on his face with her little antics and Bobbie could practically see him puff out his chest when she was around, unofficially marking himself as her protector. She knew there was something more going on between the two of them, even if they were too stubborn to realize the same.

The little brunette dug her chin into Jason's shoulder and let one hand fall limply at his back. Her eyes fluttered half-closed as Bobbie watched Jason open the door and prop it with his foot. "Why do people worry so much about stuff, Jason? – It's all gonna work out."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Note: **Not too thrilled with this chapter.

**Chapter Seventeen **

"The stars are always so close after a ride," Elizabeth sighed happily as she gazed up at the inky black heavens. She and Jason were at Vista Point after a long ride on his bike and it was their first excursion together after a long time. "I'm so glad we did this."

Jason smiled behind her, debating over whether or not to boldly step up and wrap his arms around her stomach. "Yeah, we've both been pretty busy. But it's good to have a chance to get out."

"To be free," she finished with a knowing smile, nudging him with her shoulder. That was all the incentive Jason needed to claim a step forward and lightly set one of his large hands on her hip. "Yeah, it's good to be free."

He smiled at that, especially when she leaned back against his solid chest to get a better view of the stars. Both of their lives had been hectic in the past couple weeks; she had been busy with school and preparing to graduate, not to mention her dancing and artwork and he had been putting in ridiculous hours at Kelly's and the garage, which was nearing completion and would be ready for him to move into in about a month or two. Between their crazy schedules, they didn't really have much time to spend with each other, and though Jason welcomed that at first because it kept thoughts of wanting her as more than a friend at bay, he soon realized just as he had before that he missed her.

"I love Port Charles at night." She cuddled back against his chest, still gazing up at the stars as his other hand wrapped around her waist and Jason's fingers twined at her belt buckle. "Heck, I just love the nighttime. It's so dark and peaceful." Elizabeth shook her head with a chuckle. "I'm such a night owl."

"That explains why you only sleep for three hours a day," Jason smirked, tentatively letting his cheek rest against her soft hair. "And why you do nothing but blast music for the other twenty-one hours."

She elbowed him in the stomach, smirking when he grunted and bent forward, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear. "I wasn't _blasting_ my music, Jason."

"It was loud."

"It was not."

"It was annoying."

"It was _Annie, Get Your Gun_!" she frowned at him. "And it was _not_ annoying, Morgan; I swear, I've got to work on your taste in music."

Jason just smirked and turned his face slightly, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Whatever you say, Elizabeth." She shivered quietly in his arms and the mechanic frowned, undoing his clasped hands and running them up and down the sleeves of her thin blue sweater. "Are you cold? Take my jacket."

Elizabeth turned around just then and wrapped her fingers around his biceps as he began to take off the leather jacket. "It's okay," she assured him with a small smile. "I'm good." He looked at her quizzically and moved to take his jacket off anyway, but she stopped him with a glare. The older man smirked down at her and Elizabeth noticed for the first time just how close she was to him; she was practically in his arms. Gulping quietly, she averted her gaze and found herself looking up at the twinkling stars again.

Jason stared down at her, admiring how those magical sapphire eyes dazzled in the starlight. He'd been a fool to think that he could just ignore this, whatever _this_ was. It was a goal that had been attainable back when he hardly knew her; back when she said hello to him every morning, prattled on as he cooked, and then said goodbye to him at night. He worked with her then but he never made any effort to get to know her. The situation he now found himself in was worlds different; he was in far too deep to pretend she didn't matter.

"Man," she sighed softly, subconsciously letting her hands smooth up his arms to rest on his shoulders. "There's nothing like a good look at the stars to make you feel like the loneliest person in the world."

That was practically the last thing he expected to hear from the cheerful and gregarious little brunette and it made Jason frown. "Do you…think of yourself as lonely, Elizabeth?"

She barely realized that she had twined her fingers together behind his neck, or that she was currently running her thumb through the soft golden hair at his nape. But she did feel it acutely when one of Jason's large, rough hands rubbed up and down her back in a strong, smooth motion. "I…I'm just sayin'. You know…"

The brunette didn't seem too inclined to offer anything in terms of a real answer and Jason wasn't about to push her. Besides, he was perfectly content to stand the way they were right now, with her in his arms as they looked up at the stars. Elizabeth's soft sigh rustled through the warm, misty summer air and the corners of her mouth.

_Was_ she lonely?

It was a good question; one that she wasn't sure she had an answer to. She had more than enough friends, good friends, at that. Her family wasn't all that stellar as far as families went; her parents never really figured into the equation, her only remaining grandmother had passed on a few years ago, and her siblings were busy with their own lives. But she liked to think that her friends made up for her family's inadequacies. Johnny and Emily were for all intents and purposes her family; Penny and the girls at Kelly's were like sisters to her, and Seth was just like a sardonic but well-meaning big brother. And she had Jason. She wasn't quite sure what he was, though; he had started off as a summer crush but she couldn't really call him that anymore. She just wasn't sure _what_ he was.

His fingers brushed against her skin and Elizabeth shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Jason looked down at her with a confused twinkle in his unearthly blue eyes, and she smiled up at him. "I like it here."

He tilted his head and flashed her that boyish smirk she was so fond of. "Me, too. It's nice."

Elizabeth nodded absently, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I don't want to go home."

Jason frowned at her troubled sigh. "We don't have to – not yet, I mean." She heard a jingle of metal and then he lifted his keys out of his pocket. "We can get on the bike and just drive – we don't have to go back until we want to. What do you say?" Her smile was reluctant and Jason dangled the keys in front of her, grinning. "Tell you what – I'll even let you drive."

Elizabeth laughed and rested her forehead against his strong chest. "I have a feeling this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here."

Jason chuckled and settled one hand squarely on the small of her back. "It might be."

She sighed softly, a touch of a smile still on her lips, and reluctantly shook her head. "I'd love to, but I've got an early class tomorrow and a mee-" She stopped herself abruptly before she could finish the word. "-uh, plans afterward."

Well, that was close enough. She actually had a meeting with an admissions officer for one of the most acclaimed ballet programs in upstate New York. She had submitted her application a long time ago and it had been approved; afterwards, she had auditioned for them privately and tonight she'd find out if she got the spot or not. Her gram's superstitious ways had rubbed off on her when she was younger, because she believed that if she spoke of it in advance, she'd jinx herself. Saying that she had plans was probably better – she could pass it off as a date, and that way if she didn't get the part, no one would know about it except her and no one would offer her sympathetic smiles and smother her with their attempts to console her.

Jason's jaw tightened momentarily and his gaze turned steely as he dropped the keys back into his pocket and withdrew his arms from around her. "Yeah, okay," he got out with a jerky nod. "We should probably get going, then."

Elizabeth nodded and tucked her hair behind her ears, following him toward the stairs. Jason's breathing was controlled, his nostrils flared, as he berated himself for the millionth time for entertaining foolish notions that never seemed to pan out anyway. He was working himself up into a good old funk, too, when her small hand slipped into his, clasping it as they descended the stairs, and just like that, his anger fizzled slowly away.

It was almost astonishing how much power the little brunette had over his emotions, he couldn't help but muse as he squeezed her hand back.

* * *

The bells attached to the front door of Kelly's Diner jingled as Elizabeth stepped inside. The days were much warmer now and though she didn't need a jacket, she had pulled on a cardigan to make her pink leotard look a little more modest. She wore loose black capris over her tights and her pink slippers dangled from her fingers. After a long day of classes, she had been so high-strung over her meeting that night that she had gone straight to her studio without getting anything to eat or drink and had spent the next few hours dancing away her nervousness. It seemed to have worked, but now that she only had forty minutes to get ready for her meeting, the butterflies were once again settling in.

The girls had asked her to go to the movies with them this afternoon and true to her superstitious ways, Elizabeth had claimed she had a date instead of telling them about the meeting. And as soon as she was safely out of earshot, she called her friend who was a waiter at the Grille to call in a favor. He started his shift about the same time as her dinner appointment started and had agreed to come pick her up and make it look like they were going out together. He'd get to work, she'd get to her meeting and no one would be the wiser.

Jason was sorting through a thick stack of papers in his room and Elizabeth waved at him as she passed. He looked up, caught sight of her in the skimpy leotard and shimmering tights, and quickly waved back before hastily turning away.

Half an hour later, the brunette was showered and dressed. She had picked a strapless black dress that hugged her curves and fell an inch or so above her knee and had paired it with a pair of strappy black sandals that she knew were every man's undoing. The evening was supposed to be a formal meeting, but Jason didn't have to know that. She'd waltz around in the revealing dress for a few minutes and then sneak out with the dress' matching blazer under her arm – that is, if Tom ever showed up to get her. Whisking her fingers through her hair, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall and looked around for her friends.

"HELP!"

Seth and Jason were the only two boarders who were in their rooms, and both men came barreling out into the hall at the sound of her voice.

"What? What?"

Elizabeth looked from Jason to Seth and then stepped fully into the hallway, doing a little twirl in front of them. "Seth? What do you think?"

The reporter frowned first at Jason and then at her. "About what? The dress?"

"No, about our dependency on foreign oil. Yes, the dress!"

The dark haired man shrugged uncomfortably. "You know I'm not too good at these things. Why don't you ask the girls?"

"Well, the girls aren't up here, are they?" Elizabeth snipped, setting her hands on her hips. "Just tell me what you think – is it too tight? Too low? Does my chest look like it's going to pop out?"

Seth frowned at her, missing Jason's dark glare. "I don't know – it looks fine to me. You know I suck at this; why don't you ask someone else?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Because I need a _man's_ opinion, for Christ's sake."

"So? Ask Jason – he's a man."

Elizabeth turned and stared at Jason, then flipped back to the reporter. "Jason? He's not a man – he's just…Jason. I need _your _opinion, Seth."

"It looks fine," the young man replied, throwing his hands up in the air. "Do me one thing – take it easy on the lucky bastard that gets to take you out tonight, okay? For your sake, don't open your mouth; if he finds out what he's in for, he'll head for the hills."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that and just thank you for your opinion," Elizabeth replied, tilting her nose in the air. "So, thank you." She disappeared back into her room, leaving Jason to snarl to himself out in the hall before he did the same, slamming the door hard behind him.

* * *

"_Miss Webber, I'm terribly sorry, but at this point I have the unpleasant task of letting you know that you're not quite what we're looking for."_

Mr. Townsend's words repeated over and over in her head as Elizabeth walked through the park with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her light spring coat. Not what they were looking for. Why the hell wasn't she surprised? She wasn't what _anyone_ was looking for. If she were smart, she'd have listened to her parents all those years ago and given up her foolish notions of dancing professionally; after all this time, she still had nothing to show for it.

Letting out a long, sad sigh, Elizabeth sat down on one of the benches and looked up at the stars. The night was warm but she still hugged her coat around herself, listening to the crickets chirp.

She didn't really mean it; this was what she always told herself after she lost what might have been a big break. There was no way she would ever have gone to medical school even if she hadn't discovered her natural aptitude when it came to dance and art. That just wasn't her; it would never be her. Soft locks of chocolate hair danced in the summer wind, fluttering against her cheek, and Elizabeth sullenly swiped them back. Painting and ballet were her life's blood; they were what kept her going when she just wanted to hide under the covers and never get up. They gave her something to look forward to; they were her solace when everything was going wrong. Stretching and posing on the bar was as good as meditation and the angry slashes of her brush on the canvas was as good as the anger-purging karate some of her friends swore by.

But she was just so sick and tired of losing.

First it had been not getting accepted into the university with the acclaimed ballet program; then it had been one botched audition after another. Rows upon rows of tall, slender, blonde waifs that were all a wee bit better than her or at least had deeper pockets than a single minimum-wage-earning college student. The losses were numerous and at times she felt as if they were crushing her, bearing down upon her shoulders as the marks of her failure. Her paintings always ended up stowed away in the back of her closet, and then the back of Emily's garage when her closet was filled up. She never really entertained the fantasy of getting one of the chic galleries in town to notice and endorse her, and after tonight's humiliating defeat, she was glad.

Just another heartbreak that she would have been setting herself up for.

The stars twinkled down at her from their lofty position as Elizabeth sat alone in the park, wondering why she still wasn't good enough.

* * *

Her steps were heavy as she walked across the cobbled walkway to Kelly's and wearily shoved her key into the lock. She struggled with it for a minute and was about to kick the wood and curse darkly when it gave, granting her entrance into the dark diner. All she wanted to do was go upstairs, change out of her stiff dress, flop under the covers, and have herself a good long cry. And that didn't seem like too much to ask for.

But she should have known better.

Jason was standing by the counter when she walked in, absently sipping lukewarm coffee. He still had a bunch of papers spread out before him and a yellow pencil was tucked over his ear. The mechanic looked up at her and in the darkness, didn't notice the look of pure dejection on her face.

"Came home alone tonight?"

She stopped mid-step and stared hard at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jason's shrug belied the tense set of his shoulders. "I figured that Tim or Jim-"

"_Tom."_

"My mistake," he replied smoothly, not sounding the least bit sorry. "I figured that _Tom_ would have at least dropped you off."

Her pseudo-date was the last thing Elizabeth wanted to discuss. She fumbled with her buttons, tugging on the stubborn fabric of her coat, and swallowed roughly. A reply didn't seem forthcoming, so she gave up trying to come up with something to say and shuffled toward the stairs.

"Better luck tomorrow night."

Jason's cavalier voice stopped her in her tracks and Elizabeth turned slowly on her heel. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" He didn't reply right away and she bristled, directing a dark glare at his broad back. "All right, Hansel, quit dropping the damn breadcrumbs and just spit it out; if you've got something to say, say it."

He turned smoothly and rested his hands against the counter, directing a cool look at her with his icy blue eyes. "I just meant that I hope your date for tomorrow night at least has some manners."

"Uh-huh," she grunted, crossing her arms in front of her chest and claiming one step toward him. "And what makes you think I have a date tomorrow night?"

Jason shrugged easily, the corner of his mouth curving humorlessly. "Well, I just figured, with the number of guys that you've been seeing recently…"

Her dark eyebrows shot up and Elizabeth looked at him with blatant disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Jason tossed back defensively, shrugging his shoulders again. "You _have _been making the rounds again, Elizabeth. There was Drew-"

"I went out with him once," she shot back only to be interrupted.

"There was that kid with the red hair and the ripped jeans – Scuzz, right? Wasn't his name Scuzz? – and that guy with the long hair, that busboy with the black spikes – oh, and what about all those interns that come in on their lunch break just to flirt around? Are we counting them, too? Maybe I should get out a calculator."

She didn't know whether to slug him or burst into tears, so she settled for a happy medium. "Shut the hell up, Morgan – do I walk around ticking off all your women on my fingers? No, I don't, so the least you can do is show me the same fucking courtesy and knock it off."

"Dirty language," he frowned, shaking his head. "You kiss _Tom_ with that mouth?"

Her palm itched with the urge to slap him but Elizabeth held herself in check – albeit with great difficulty. She had no idea what was going on here, but Jason had never been like this to her before. She was used to him being grumpy and grousing around the kitchen and yelling at her to stop singing, but he had never been _malicious_ before.

"You're a total jerk, you know that?"

"And what, exactly, is your standard for determining quality, Elizabeth?" Jason asked, crossing his meaty arms across his chest. "Because judging by the low-lives you run around with, I'm willing to bet that it's so low you have to dig for it."

"Low-lives?" She couldn't believe her ears. "Who the hell do you think you are, calling those guys-"

"And you think they're _not_?"

"Drew is a musician," she started, ticking off the men on her fingertips. "Nick is a counselor at the community center; _Sam_, not Scuzz, is a teachers' aide who likes to skateboard; Roger is a full-time student; yes, Gavin is a busboy and a good one, at that; and _those interns_ happen to work long hours with Johnny at the paper – they wouldn't be able to put anything out if it wasn't for them." Her eyes were blazing with anger as she prowled forward, her hands curled into fists. "They're honest, hard-working kids just like me who don't have a fucking dime to their name but don't intend to let that stop them. So I guess if they're low-lives, then, yeah, I'm one, too. And you know what they say about birds of a feather."

That muscle in his jaw ticked as Jason glared down at her. He didn't quite mean it the way she had said it; he had never once thought of her like that. But reason was immediately pushed aside by emotion. "Don't get so defensive, Elizabeth; I was just suggesting that spend a little less time running around with-"

"So help me God, if you don't shut the hell up in the next two seconds-" She was covering her ears with her hands, absolutely ready to scream. "Who the hell do you think you are? News flash, Jason: I already have a father. And a brother, so I don't need any replacements. And I already have enough people around who think they can control my life and I don't need to add you to the fucking list!"

"Control your life?" He parroted, dropping his hands to his hips. "How about just trying to look out for you?"

"You're not looking out for me!" she yelled back, not particularly caring if she woke up the whole block. "You're telling me I'm easy – so go ahead, Jason, stitch a red A on my chest and let's be done with it!"

"I'm not-"

"You're calling me a fucking _whore_," she growled, furious to find tears creeping into her eyes. "Let me tell you something, Jason. I am more than used to being told that I'm a screw-up. I'm more than used to knowing that I'm not wanted or valued. And I am more than used to being written off and rejected and told that I'll never amount to anything. There. Did that pretty much cover everything you wanted to say to me tonight? Let me tell you something else, then – I am so not in the fucking mood for this." Tears were creeping into her voice now, slurring it, and she hated herself for it. "Call me whatever the hell you want – an easy girl seems just fine. I'll be sure to add it to my fucking resume first thing in the morning."

"Elizabeth!" Jason's eyes were glittering as he tried to keep his voice in check. "Did you hear me use that word? No? Maybe that was because I _didn't_." And if she had listened to him, she would have picked up on that. But she never listened to him. All she did was blast her damn music and wear her damn miniskirts and go on dates with strange men that weren't him, not even caring if he was sent into a dark funk for a whole day afterwards. She took him and his feelings for her for granted and it was about time she realized that he wasn't going to sit around and wait for things to change on their own. He was a grown man, goddammit, and he was sick of hiding his feelings – which at this point, meant his anger. "There's no need to make yourself the martyr here."

Funny, because that was exactly what she felt like as tears flooded her eyes. "You're a complete asshole, you know that? I can't believe I ever thought differently." She swiped up her purse from the table and tugged her coat back into place, fairly seething at the older man. "Let me tell you something, Jason – I am used to being spit on, I'm used to knowing that I was never wanted, and I'm used to knowing that no matter what I do, I'll never be good enough. My own family was kind enough to clue me in, and for a while I thought they were the crazy ones. I never thought that I'd be told the same fucking thing by my friends – so thanks for being such a damn good one, _Jase_."

Turning on her heel before he could see her cry, Elizabeth jammed her hands into the pockets and fairly fled from the diner. Jason glared after her, his jaw tight, and finally turned with a huff and stomped up the stairs to his room, hoping that this bout would be just what he needed to shake off the ridiculous crush he had on the petite brunette.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Jason pulled off his gloves as he entered the diner, making sure to pull the door shut behind him. Everyone else was already asleep and he quietly made his way toward the kitchen.

The little diner was nice and warm tonight; his aunt always kept the heat somewhat high, just like she did at the Brownstone. Running a hand through his wind-tousled hair, Jason dropped his jacket atop one of the stools and prowled around in search of something to eat. It had been a long day and he was famished, dirty, and tired.

It didn't take long to fix up a number seven – no onions, of course – and he made sure to put everything away before he pulled himself onto the counter to scarf down his extremely late dinner. He had gotten up early that morning to sort through the plans for his almost-completed garage; even after construction was done, there was still all the wiring to think of, plus a million other details that were weighing down on his shoulders.

Then it had been a full day in the kitchen, trying to get food out to the customers and after that he had gone out to the garage site again to see how things were going. He had only spoken to Max two or three times since he came on the job; the Italian foreman was usually tucked away somewhere, working with the rest of his crew. But the other men were pleasant enough and told Jason everything he needed to know. After spending several hours there, he had managed to drag himself to his bike and drive home.

It had been one whole day since his fight with Elizabeth, and it was driving him crazy.

The little brunette had ignored him all day today, simply grabbing the plates of food from him and racing off to the customers. And as soon as her shift was over, she had flown out of the restaurant as if her pants were on fire, no doubt to find safe refuge in her studio.

To be honest, he didn't know what he was expecting or what he was hoping for. Maybe recognition instead of the stoic, blank look in her hard eyes; maybe a few angry barbs tossed his way as she practically wrenched a number two with extra pickles from his hand. At least if she was furious with him, she still felt something. He knew Elizabeth well enough to know that the little woman was _never_ silent – and that was why he totally felt out of sorts with the silent treatment she was bestowing upon him.

Jason wiped his hands on his jeans and slid off the counter, grabbing his jacket and beginning the arduous trek up to his room. No doubt Elizabeth was camped out in her studio. He climbed wearily until he reached the landing, and a little yellow piece of paper attached to his door caught his eye.

Frowning, Jason tore the post-it from his door and squinted down at it in the darkness.

_I am very mad at you._

He sighed and let his eyes trace over her loopy handwriting before crumpling the paper and tucking it into his pocket. Yeah, he wasn't too thrilled with himself either.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed and looked out her window before turning back to the canvas once more. There were few things in the world she hated more than having to paint without any inspiration to guide her strokes. And that was just what she was forced to do right now. Cavenaugh's project was due right before graduation, and her dancing couple wasn't looking right. The first painting had come out too soft, too…blah. There was no passion, no spark. It was dull and lackluster and though her classmates thought it was great when they all painted at the studio hall at PCU together, she still hated it. Absolutely hated it. Hopefully, this one would be better.

But she doubted it. It was a waste of time to even pick up the brush, and she never would have dreamed of doing so if graduation wasn't a mere week and a half away.

Ten days. Ten days and she'd be walking out the doors of Port Charles University for the last time with an Art History degree in her hands and a whole bunch of naïve, pretentious ideas about her future that would all come crashing down around her when she realized just how hard life as an artist cum ballerina was. Yeah, whoopee. Happy days were just here to stay.

She swirled her brush around in the red paint she had mixed earlier – a splash of metallic gold had made the color much richer and more fiery, and she hoped it would help convey the mood she wanted. Passion. Love. Trust. Complete and utterly unbreakable confidence in the partner.

She just wished she felt the same way in her own world, far removed from that of the canvas in front of her.

With a sigh, Elizabeth scraped the excess paint off her brush and left it and the palette on her workbench. Her ballet-style furry crimson bedroom slippers scuffled over the tiles as she walked over to her couch and crawled on top of it, unlatching the window screen. Pushing it out of the way, she wiggled out onto her balcony and slowly made her way to the railing, gripping it tightly with her hands as she stared up at the sky. Coming out onto the balcony usually helped her when she was stuck, and she hoped it would help her now.

The stars twinkled down from their lofty position in the heavens, utterly unconcerned with a trivial little thing such as her. Thinking better of it, Elizabeth sank down onto her knees and sat on the cool metal, letting her feet dangle out into the alley below that led to the docks. The water sparkled at her, dark inky waves lapping at the wood. Small golden lights adorning the adjacent buildings cast a soft if not somewhat eerie light on the waterfront. Beyond that lay the streets of Port Charles, their motionless tranquility interrupted by the occasional late-night motorist.

It looked like a picture – good enough to paint.

Still, that wasn't inspiration enough.

Elizabeth tucked her chin into her hand and stared at the building right by the docks. Kelly's diner. The lights were all out in the windows that she could see; everyone was fast asleep. Looking at the brick building made her scowl, so she quickly trained her gaze back onto the dark water of the lake.

Two days. Two days since her fight with Jason, and it was driving her crazy.

Nothing worked right. She couldn't even get through her stretches on the bar without thinking about him; studying didn't seem to do the trick either because she could still hear him yelling at her. Asshole.

But that was the last thing she wanted to think about; after all, she had thought about it enough as she went through a pint of Death by Chocolate ice cream while listening to her _Carmen_ soundtrack for the millionth time. Enough was enough. It was supposed to be simple; Jason was just supposed to be her way back into the game. For some reason, she had decided to play the part of the good girl that was always home by curfew and never let any young punk put his hands all over her. For some reason, she had held out for hope that the whole thing about that one guy was the real deal – that the one guy was out there, waiting for her, and she'd do her part by waiting for him. That had been a load of crap. Her good-girl ways had gotten her nowhere; she was still the black sheep as far as her parents were concerned and she was alone. She had to get into the swing of things sometime – there had to be _some_ guy that would have to be her first fling – and for a while, that guy had been Jason. But then things had gotten complicated. And now, she was angry, disappointed, humiliated, and still alone.

It was times like this that really made her remember her childhood wish of being able to retreat into her paintings. There was a reason that _Mary Poppins_ had always been her favorite movie as a little girl – that scene when Bert, Mary, Jane, and little Michael jumped into that vibrant chalk painting and spent a glorious day at the carnival really spoke to her. As a small child with a brand new pack of shiny, beeswax crayons, she had really believed that if she wished hard enough, she could jump into her drawing and spend a day at the zoo with her stick-figure friends. As she had grown older, she had looked back on her favorite scene and seen it for the metaphor that it was; by fully exploring and utilizing her own creativity and imagination, she could create an entire world of her own and invite her audience to come enjoy it with her.

But there were still those moments when the little girl inside her would pout sadly and wish to be transported away to a land of rich, warm colors of her own making.

The stars weren't of any help tonight, so Elizabeth abandoned them just as they had abandoned her. Climbing back into her studio, she drew the blinds and shuffled wearily back over to her painting. The paint on her palette was beginning to crust at the edges and she wet her brush once before swirling it in the rich red color again.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, the brunette lifted her brush to the rough canvas and picked up where she had abruptly left off. It just wouldn't do to let her mind wander. Especially when she had her doubts over whether the guy it always wandered back to was worth it or not. He had been as cold as ice for the past two days – he really was a living block of frozen concrete, as she had only half-jokingly told him on that fateful morning in the kitchen at Kelly's. Not a word, not a glance, no indication whatsoever that he cared one way or another. Remembering back to his little promise to leave her a note if they ever fought again, Elizabeth had decided on a hasty, bitter whim to beat him to it. After spending eight hours straight without even exchanging a single civil word, she had stomped up to her room, grabbed her things, and left a post-it on his door letting him know that she didn't in fact have laryngitis – she was just really pissed off.

The red paint glistened under the masterful strokes of her brush and Elizabeth bit her lip, concentrating hard as the painting began to come into view. Her vision was before her, and since inspiration didn't seem likely to ring the doorbell any time soon, she'd just have to take it into her own hands. The painting _would _be finished, one way or another.

* * *

Emily Bowen-O'Brien's emerald eyes followed her best friend as the brunette walked briskly across the diner with two orders of hamburgers. Next to her, her husband was on the phone with one of his assisting editors. The paper came out the following day and naturally, there was a problem at the printers'. It never failed.

Jason came out of the kitchen just then and Emily's eyes fell on him. She watched as he reached for the coffee pot and put it on before mopping down a small spill on the counter. He looked ragged, tired, and irritable. No shock there. Kelly's was a little short-handed tonight; two of the waitresses had called in and so the remaining ones had to double up. Across the diner, Elizabeth looked just as tired and surly, a striking contrast to her normally sunny disposition.

Johnny finished up his call and set his phone down, crossing his arms over the table as he watched his wife frown silently at her best friend. He nudged her affectionately with his shoulder and she started for a moment before offering him a small smile. "What's goin' on?"

"Take a look for yourself," she shrugged, jutting her chin at Elizabeth and Jason, who stood at opposite ends of the diner with their backs to each other. "Someone call JFK – we've got another Cold War on our hands."

Johnny's green eyes fell on Elizabeth as the young woman jotted down an order. "I thought things were working out – what happened?"

His wife shrugged wearily. "They fought."

"About what?"

"Let's just say that Jason chose the wrong time to get jealous," the redhead muttered under her breath, leaning into her husband's side. "He went off on her right after she found out she didn't make the program."

Johnny's eyes widened. "Poor kid."

Emily nodded sadly and picked at the rip on her jeans. She and Johnny were the only two people Elizabeth had told about the rejection and though she had always respected her best friend's penchant for privacy, she personally felt that if she just let Jason know why she had been so upset that night, he'd bend over backwards immediately to make her feel better. Because from what Elizabeth had previously told her about the mechanic, Jason was just that kind of guy.

"It's all just a big misunderstanding," she sighed, resting her head on Johnny's broad shoulder. "And they're both just too stupid to do anything about it."

"How long has it been?" her husband wanted to know as he took a sip of her diet soda.

"Three days."

He quirked a dark brow at her. "Huh. Elizabeth's never been mad at anyone that long – well, except her parents, but that's a given."

"I know," Emily nodded, leaning back in her seat. "I mean, remember that time at my bachelorette party? We both sat in jail for the whole night with the girls and she was mad at me for two days, tops."

Johnny just shook his head and took another swig from her glass. He had to hand it to his wife – she really lucked out when it came to friends. Any other person would have run for the hills a long time ago, but Elizabeth was still around. He knew how important she was to Emily – hell, she was important to him, too – and he hated to think of her being hurt in any way. That was why he had announced his plans to personally castrate any of his interns that got fresh with her during _Operation: Make Jason Jealous_, but that was another story.

The petite brunette had just finished jotting down the latest order and now strode across the diner to the counter, behind which Jason was fixing himself another cup of coffee. The mechanic's head snapped back to look at her when she ripped the piece of paper out of her pad and slammed it down on the countertop before spinning around and walking away to refill more sodas. Emily watched as the older man rolled his eyes and scowled, snatching up the paper and disappearing into the kitchen once more.

Huffing with irritation, the redhead grabbed her glass of soda from her husband's hand and took a sullen sip before whirling around to face him. "What the hell is wrong with them? What the hell happened to 'oh, Em, he's such a great guy and I can talk to him about anything'? Huh? What the hell happened to that? They're both…ugh! I can't even think of a word to describe them! They're…"

"They're idiots," came a voice from behind them and both husband and wife looked over their shoulders to see Bobbie Spencer shake her head to herself before disappearing once more behind her newspaper.

* * *

Jen and Lisa opened their bedroom doors at the same time, both bleary-eyed and groggy. Mornings blew chunks. Penny and Seth were both in the hallway already, fully dressed and looking way too alert for either twin's liking.

Muffling a yawn with the sleeve of her purple terrycloth robe, Lisa shuffled over to her friends and Jen followed suit, pulling her long hair back into a ponytail. Joining the pair, they managed to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"Hey, what's up with Lizbits?" Seth wanted to know as Penny helped him fix his tie. "I stole the last of her apricot scrub last night and she didn't even hit me. She feelin' okay?"

"See, how can you expect to be caught up on everything when you spend so much time at work?" Penny demanded, jerking the knot and tightening the silk noose around his neck.

Seth shrugged. "I know you gossip whores will keep me up to speed."

Lisa smirked and elbowed her half-conscious sister who appeared to be trying to sleep against the railing. "Hey, it's six-thirty in the morning and we've already been called whores. That's gotta be some sort of record."

"Can I sleep against the wall while you kick his butt for that?" Jen inquired, scrubbing a hand over her face as her twin rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, what's wrong with the pipsqueak?" Seth demanded as Penny finished working on his tie.

At that moment, Jason's bedroom door flew open and Penny's piercing eyes told Seth to keep it quiet for the next two minutes or until Jason was safely out of earshot. Next to them, Lisa elbowed Jen and her sister snapped to attention, standing by awkwardly as the older man hurriedly zipped up his jacket while trying to lock his door at the same time.

Seth quirked an eyebrow at the girls when the bathroom door opened to reveal Elizabeth dressed in her silky robe with a towel wrapped around her head. Jason looked up, surprised, then turned back to his lock with a scowl. The little brunette ignored him completely as she dried her hair and slipped into her bedroom, letting the door slam shut behind her. Within seconds, Jason was tumbling down the stairs and a minute later, they heard his bike roar to a start before he sped off to the garage.

Penny quirked a brow back at Seth. "Still need an answer to that question?" she asked blandly.

The dark-haired reporter straightened his tie and tipped his head at Elizabeth's closed door. "Trouble in Paradise?"

Jen and Lisa glanced at each other and then the door. "Four days and counting."

* * *

Her painting sucked pond scum.

Staring at the canvas in front of her, Elizabeth scowled. She wanted to take her knife and rip it to shreds. It was just that God-awful. The colors she had thought seemed warm and rich just looked flat and garish, slathered on the rough canvas like lipstick on a prostitute. The dancing couple would have been lost in the sea of obscene color – but they weren't. Instead, the couple that was supposed to be her subject looked as if they were squaring off, two darkened figures in a mesh of red, orange, yellow, gold. The arms that were raised to accept the other in a perfect embrace looked as if they were lifted to strike; the vibrant colors that were supposed to be a soft haze enveloping the lovers looked more like fuel added to a burning, angry, spiteful fire.

The painting sucked pond scum.

Elizabeth scrubbed her hands wearily over her face and abandoned the easel. Moving slowly on her bare feet, she managed to flop down on the couch and lay there for a few long moments, just staring at the ceiling. First, she didn't have enough spark. Now, she had so much spark that the dancing couple looked like a pair of street fighters. Forget the happy medium.

But she was almost relieved that there wasn't time to redo the painting; she didn't think she could do it anyway. Graduation was the upcoming Saturday, and her project was due on Thursday. She'd just hope to talk it off as two different takes on a dancing couple – flat and platonic, and fiery and vengeful. That would have to work, because that was all Cavenaugh was getting.

There was a crack in the ceiling that earned itself a dark scowl, and Elizabeth angrily flopped over on her stomach. This studio was driving her crazy. Hell, everything was driving her crazy. Her own bad mood was driving her crazy. And to think that she was in such a funk all over some stupid guy was just…bah. She needed to get out.

Glancing at her watch, Elizabeth sighed and pushed herself up off the couch. It was April's birthday today and since her fellow-waitress still had to work at her part-time bartending job at the PC Grille, she had thought she'd go cheer her up with some homemade brownies later. But sooner was looking better than later, especially since she was liable to drive herself crazy if she just stayed in her studio.

Picking a long brown skirt from her closet, Elizabeth grabbed a thin crimson sweater and quickly changed. A pair of knee-high leather boots completed the outfit and she grabbed her little Tupperware container of special birthday brownies and headed out the door.

* * *

Jason cut quickly across the docks, his leather jacket open and flapping against him with each step. After a long day at the diner and then the garage, he was completely exhausted. If he was lucky, Luke would have saved some chili or something for him in the refrigerator, and he'd scarf that down as quickly as possible so that he could go upstairs and collapse. The way he was feeling, it would be a miracle if he didn't fall asleep halfway up.

The water lapped against the docks as he continued to stride across the planks and inevitably, his gaze strayed up to the window of Elizabeth's studio. It was late and he was expecting her to be asleep, which was precisely why he was greatly surprised to see the light on. The shade was pulled down and he could make out her silhouette. Pausing, Jason stared up at the pale block of golden light. It was her, all right – he'd recognize that figure anywhere. She was outlined perfectly against the drawn shade and he could see her jerky movements; she was furiously lifting her arm up and down, twisting from side to side, and succeeding in completely alarming him.

Forgetting their feud, Jason leapt to action and ran across the planks, his boots thundering over the wood. He took the stairs three at a time and cut through the alley that led to the rear entrance. It didn't take him long to get inside and once he was, he raced up the stairs with incredible energy, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached her floor. Three large steps had him right in front of her door and he rapped insistently on the metal. No response came so Jason balled his hands into fists and practically pounded it away, mentally giving her ten seconds before he picked the lock.

In the end, he didn't even have to wait that long. The door flew open and Elizabeth stared up at him curiously. Her hair was down and mussed and she was barefoot, coming up barely to his chin. Jason could only gape down at her. The little brunette wore a long brown skirt that fell past her ankles and pooled on the floor, and her snug crimson sweater fit her like a glove – except for the fact that several of the top buttons were undone and gave him a generous view of her cleavage and just a glimpse of her matching scarlet bra. He was so busy wondering if she was wearing the matching thong that he had seen in her shopping bag a long while ago that he almost missed the half-finished bottle of tequila in her hand.

"Whaddaya want?" she demanded, glaring up at him with the most adorable pout he'd ever seen. "Go play in traffic, Morgan. I'm busy."

He winced at the blaring music – some Italian operetta. Only Elizabeth would blast an opera at top volume. "Doing what? Driving every dog in New England out of its mind?"

Scowling, Elizabeth whirled around clumsily and almost tripped over her skirt. "Go 'way." Her less than graceful movements prompted his concern and fortunately for her, Jason was able to grab her right before she crashed to the floor. "Hey! When I say 'go 'way', I don't mean that you should feel me up. Leggo!"

"Elizabeth, you're drunk," he sighed, wrapping his hands around her tiny waist and struggling to support her kicking, squirming body.

"I am not," she denied vehemently. "Not yet, anyway. And trust me, boy, you'd know it when I was drunk! Oh, would you!"

Letting out a gruff sigh that sounded more like a growl, Jason kicked her door shut with his heel and scooped her up off the floor. Her skirt twisted with the movement, baring a strip of creamy skin and two dark red straps. Ha – he'd been right. She was indeed wearing the red thong.

"For your information," she huffed, squirming and wriggling against him so much that he almost dropped her on his way to the couch, "this bottle was already open. I haven't had much. And I'm not sharing, so you can just go soak your head."

He cradled her in his arms and braced one foot on the armrest of the couch to further support the wiggling minx, arranging the cushions before he gently laid her down on them. As soon as he had withdrawn his hands, Elizabeth indignantly scooted back and sat against the far end of the couch with her knees pulled up against her chest, holding the bottle of tequila protectively and glaring darkly at him as if he was going to take it from her.

Jason backed off a step and shrugged out of his jacket, prompting Elizabeth to glower at him.

"Hey! Whaddaya doin' that for?" she demanded, not noticing that the slit of her skirt was now twisted around to her front, baring a lengthy expanse of her shapely legs to his smoldering gaze. "I told you to get lost, Morgan. So, go."

He ignored her, his blue eyes sweeping around her studio. There were puddles of paint on the floor and her brushes were strewn haphazardly all over the place. He jabbed the power button on the stereo and noticed that the stretched canvases that she always kept stored in neat piles in the corner had been kicked all over the place, and the painting on her easel had been slashed almost beyond recognition. Squinting, Jason could make out the dark blues and blacks that comprised nothing other than his bicycle – it was the painting that had allowed both of them to camp out under the stars for hours with nothing but warm coffee and the crickets to keep them company.

She was picking at her fingernails with a hint of a pout on her lips when Jason finally looked back at her. Feeling his gaze come to a rest on her, Elizabeth reluctantly raised her eyes to his. The mechanic tilted his head to the side and just looked at her.

"What happened?"

His voice was soft, unassuming, even tender and despite her best attempts, it cracked through her defenses. Sticking her bottom lip out a bit, Elizabeth ran her fingertip over the rim of her tequila bottle.

"Men are assholes."

The tears in her voice damn near broke his heart and Jason raked a hand through his tousled dark spikes. "Present company included."

The corner of her mouth quirked up at the reference to their late-night conversation at Kelly's when she had all but fallen asleep in his lap. Instead of replying, Elizabeth lifted the bottle to her lips and threw her head back, taking a big gulp. "Well, present company better kick my ass the next time I think about going to the Grille."

That was mumbled under her breath and Jason blinked down at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?"

She rolled her eyes and shifted, tucking her legs underneath herself but remaining completely oblivious to the fact that her sweater was almost halfway unbuttoned. "Nothing."

"You went to the Grille?"

She bristled now under his words, her mood sufficiently darker, and Jason was already sliding over to sit on the armrest on the opposite side of the couch from her when Elizabeth directed a dark glare squarely at him. "I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

Her behavior was setting off all kinds of red flags, and Jason frowned. "Elizabeth-"

"Damn it, Jason-"

"No," he cut her off smoothly, sliding off the armrest and moving to the cushions right next to her. His hand curled into the red fabric and he stared firmly right back at her. "Elizabeth, if something happened that-"

"Nothing happened, okay?" she burst out, throwing her hands in the air and sloshing a little tequila onto the couch. "What, all of a sudden you actually care? I'm fine, Morgan – just fucking fine. Nothing happened, so get over yourself and get lost."

His eyes hardened and Jason pursed his lips. "Elizabeth-"

"God, will you _stop_ saying my name?" she exclaimed, exasperated. With a shake of her head and a huff, the little brunette rose from the couch and hastily tugged her skirt into place before stumbling a few steps toward the door. "I-I can't do this. I have to go."

"What?" She was in no condition to go anywhere and Jason was instantly on his feet and moving after her. "Why?"

Elizabeth spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining. "Because I'm _not_ going to cry in front of you again, goddammit!" she yelled, covering her mouth to hide the quivering lip that gave her away.

Furious with herself, the little brunette swiped at her eyes to remove the liquid humiliation that pooled there as Jason stared at her in shock. She tried to reach for the door but the mechanic instantly shook himself out of it and lunged for her, grabbing her by the waist and yanking her back. The quick movement almost jerked her off her feet and Elizabeth crashed into his chest, trying to glare daggers at him while keeping her glistening eyes lowered.

Wordlessly, Jason cupped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her silky hair, and pulled her close. She resisted at first but then stopped, pressing her face hard into his chest. He heard her sniffle against his shirt and let out a harsh cough, refusing to indulge in a sob.

One strong arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her firmly against him and Jason gently rubbed her rigid back with his hand. She refused to relax against him and he slowly leaned down, wrapping her up in his arms. The young woman whimpered and Jason lowered his lips near her ear.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Forgetting himself, he let his lips brush over the shell of her ear before he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry."

And that was all it took for the dam to break. Her dainty fingers curled tightly into his t-shirt, the polished nails digging into his skin. She melted against him, her breath coming in short gasps as she hiccupped and sobbed against him. Elizabeth clung to him fiercely, accepting the warm comfort he offered, and Jason kept his lips pressed hard to her temple.

When she had calmed down, he gently smoothed a hand up and down her back. His nose tickled the smooth skin at her temples as he rocked her gently in his arms. "What happened?"

"I'm through."

Jason's sandy brows furrowed. "Through with what?"

"Through with men." She scratched her nose against his t-shirt and didn't notice his surprise.

"W-Why?" he asked, praying all the while she wasn't serious.

"Horny, arrogant assholes."

The first word caught his attention and Jason placed his hands on the little brunette's shoulders and peered down at her with alarm. "Elizabeth – did something happen? Did someone-"

She rolled her eyes and pulled out of his grasp, retreating once more to the safety of her couch and tequila. Stunned, Jason stood still for a moment before whirling around and following her. He was afraid that she wouldn't tell him – that whatever had her in this funk was too terrible to recount – and his heart was already racing like a jackhammer.

"Standards at the Grille aren't what they used to be," the young woman mumbled around the neck of her bottle. "They'll let in any slick-haired prick in a cheap suit." He waited for her to continue and she did – after another small sip of her drink. "Today was April's birthday – did you know that?" Jason shook his head and Elizabeth frowned. "Typical guy. Anyway, I made her brownies and I took them to the Grille because she had to work today – on her birthday! Imagine that."

He scooted closer to her on the couch, trying his hardest not to look at her smooth calves as they poked out from under her skirt. "We were at the bar because she was taking a five minute break, and then I think her manager called her back." Elizabeth stretched languidly as she spoke, and Jason blinked in surprise when she threw her legs lazily across his lap. But he knew better than to say anything and instead settled one large hand over her ankles.

"This guy with greasy hair comes up to the bar and sits down next to me." She was scowling at her bottle and didn't notice how Jason's eyes slowly grew stormy. "First, he tried to buy me a drink and when I said no…" He steeled his jaw but managed to keep quiet. "He kept insisting. I guess I might have been flirting around with him a little in the beginning so he thought… I don't know. Ric – I think that was his name - he just got in my face. When I tried to leave, he stood and kinda blocked me-" The brunette shook her head and whisked her hair back from her face, missing the way Jason's fingers curled into tight fists. "Tom was on duty and he got that prick out of there. Then I came home."

Some of the tension seemed to leave his body, but Jason was still seething inwardly. In the end, her date from the last week seemed to prove more useful than that _Drew_ loser; at least he made sure that asshole was taken away.

Elizabeth shook her head and took another swig from her bottle. "See? I told you – no big deal."

He glared at her, knowing that she was just bluffing but unable to contain himself. "It _is_ a big deal, Elizabeth – no man has the right to…Dammit, if I had been there-"

"Spare me the dramatics," she replied, still surly. "I don't need you around to protect me, Morgan."

His icy blue eyes softened and Jason just tilted his head at her, letting his hand close lightly around her narrow ankles. "I _want_ to be around to protect you."

It must have been the tequila that made her entire body fill with warmth. He was just sitting there, his fingers tenderly dancing over her ankles, his arm stretched out across the back of the couch towards her. There was an emotion that shined through his intense eyes, an emotion she dared not put into words, and suddenly it was impossible to be angry with him.

"I want you around, too."

Her voice was quiet and soft, but it sounded like a rumble of thunder in the silent room. Neither of them said anything more; words just didn't seem to be needed. Elizabeth was still playing with her bottle of tequila when Jason reached out and grabbed it from her, setting it on the little table behind him. Frowning, she scooted forward, practically into his lap, in her attempt to retrieve it.

"Hey, give that back!"

He chuckled and managed to keep her just out of reach of the desired beverage. "Why do you need tequila when you've got me?" he teased.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and continued her futile attempts to lunge for the bottle even as Jason wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled them further toward the other end of the couch. "Please – I bet you don't taste nearly as good as that stuff does."

She was clearly a little too buzzed to understand the innuendo in her words, but poor, sober Jason wasn't. He groaned and pulled her back more firmly, plopping her back on the cushions and glaring at her when she tried to move.

"Fine," the brunette huffed. "I'll wait until you leave."

Jason just smirked. "I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth." He frowned when she huffed with disbelief. "I'm not."

Her slim legs were thrown over his lap once more, and Elizabeth kicked her heels on her yellow afghan. "Everyone leaves, Jason; I wouldn't blame you if you did."

His rough fingertips swept over her cheek, tucking her silky hair behind the delicate shell of her ear, and Jason gently took her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him. "Nothing you do or say could make me leave, Elizabeth."

The brunette stared back at him blankly. "I didn't get into the ballet program."

Jason blinked. "What?"

"The ballet program. The one I was supposed to start in the fall if I got accepted." She whisked her hair out of her eyes and stared at him. "I didn't."

The mechanic let out a controlled breath, scrubbing his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth hunkered down in place, leaning against the back of the couch. "Me, too. That was my whole plan – graduate in a week, work full time over the summer, head to Albany and take it from there. Well, I botched that one up good. Just one more tally mark on the ol' Failure Chart."

His thumb absently swept over her temples as he combed her hair back. "When did you find out?"

"Five days ago."

Jason winced when it occurred to him what else had happened five days ago. "And I wasn't much help, was I?"

Elizabeth shrugged, lifting one shoulder dejectedly. "Doesn't matter now."

A muscle in his jaw ticked and with a sigh, Jason wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "C'mere." She scooted forward willingly and curled up against his side, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have seen how upset you were before I jumped on you."

She sniffled and squirmed against him, pressing her cheek hard to his solid chest. "Why did you?"

Yeah, now _definitely_ wasn't the best time to admit that he had been jealous and bitter. "Just…in a bad mood."

"I…What you said about…about Tom and the others…"

Jason cringed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I know. I had no right to go off that way on you."

She nibbled on her lower lip and made sure to avert her gaze. "It really hurt, Jason. I'm not that kind of girl."

His heart almost broke right there, and Jason was sure to call himself every single foul word he could think of. "I know, I know you're not, Elizabeth. I didn't mean it the way it came out. I never wanted to hurt you, and I'm sorry that I did."

She nodded, accepting his apology and the soothing feeling of his fingers combing through her hair. "Well, it doesn't matter now anyway. I'm done. Done with men."

There it was again – that troublesome declaration. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth snorted. "What do you think I mean? I'm done with…with dating and guys and all this crap." And she meant it – she fully intended to quit her dating spree and tell Johnny that while it meant a lot that he helped out, she didn't need him or his flirty interns anymore. "I'm so tired of waiting for the right guy, if there _is_ such a thing. I mean, I've been dating since I was fifteen – where the hell is he?"

Jason didn't exactly have an answer, so he settled for resting his head lightly against her soft hair.

"Is it too much to ask to just win _once_?" she wanted to know, wishing she had her bottle of tequila again. "You try to be the good girl and sit around and wait for Prince Charming, but he never comes. And then you just try to get back in the game and be a normal person and that doesn't work either – you either meet really sweet guys that you're just not attracted to or horny assholes that you want to call the cops on. There's no happy medium." She sighed forlornly and curled into him again, as if trying to hide from the world. "There's got to be something wrong with me."

"There's _nothing_ wrong with you, Elizabeth," Jason cut in smoothly and firmly. He was not about to let her wander down that path – ever. "You're perfect."

That last part was out of his mouth before he could stop it, but thanks to her mild tequila buzz, Elizabeth didn't pick up on it as she might have if she had been sober. "You _have_ to say that," the little brunette informed him, poking him hard in the chest with her index finger. "You're my best friend."

Jason's sandy brows shot up; that was the last thing he had been expecting to hear from her mouth when he was running down the docks to her studio. "What?"

"What?"

He blinked down at her. "I'm your best friend?"

The sleepy brunette beauty frowned up at him. "Don't you _want_ to be my best friend?"

Aw, hell. There was no way to tell her that he wanted to be more than that, so Jason settled on just rubbing one hand up and down her back. "I thought Emily was your best friend."

She yawned against him and nodded. "Who says you gotta have just one?"

"You're right." He chuckled to himself and rested his cheek against her dark hair. It felt so natural, to be sitting curled up on the couch with her like this. "When did that happen?"

She was barely paying attention, and her eyes were beginning to droop. "Huh? When did what happen?"

"When did I become your best friend?" he whispered into the chocolate locks, his voice low and rough.

Elizabeth squirmed until she was comfortable again and rubbed her eyes with one hand. "I dunno." He waited until she finally continued. "Mm. I'm just comfortable with you, Jason. You're nice, you make me feel good about myself, you always listen to me and I can tell you pretty much anything. And I always feel safe when I'm with you."

His soft voice cut through the light haze she had slipped into, jarring her awake. "You're my best friend, too, then."

She smiled despite herself. "Good to know."

There was a long pause and he was almost certain she had fallen asleep until she spoke up.

"Jason?"

"What?"

"Let's not do this again."

"Not do what again?"

"Fight."

She pressed her forehead against his neck and he settled his hand possessively over her smooth knees. "Okay," he agreed softly. "No more fights, no more angry Post-Its. Can you handle that, Webber?"

"No more angry Post-Its," she repeated, smiling against him. "What about sardonic Post-Its? Those allowed?"

"No."

"You take the fun out of everything."

A long, comfortable silence stretched out between them like a blanket once more. A light breeze drifted in through the open window, rattling the shade, and Jason stretched languidly on the couch, thoroughly enjoying her weight on his body.

"Jason?"

"Aren't you asleep yet?"

"Mmphth."

"What is it?"

"I ruined your bike."

There was unmistakable sadness in her voice and Jason glanced down at the torn canvas that lay in shreds on the floor.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not – _I ruined your bike._"

He held her tightly, squeezing her shoulder for a moment before relaxing his hold. "Nothing that can't be fixed, Elizabeth."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Note: **Usually after I post a chapter, I can't work on that story for at least two days. But for some reason, this happened. I think I'm subconsciously trying to get these chapters out faster so that you guys won't lynch me for the 'slow build until it all explodes' game plan I've got going on.

**Chapter Nineteen**

She woke up with sunlight pouring in through her window and shifted groggily, lifting herself onto her elbows. Sprawled underneath her, looking as if he belonged right there, was Jason. His large frame took up most of the space on the couch despite the fact that he had thrown one long leg over the back of the sofa to afford them more room, and Elizabeth was nestled comfortably on top of him.

He always looked so peaceful when he slept, and he looked peaceful now even though he couldn't possibly be comfortable. Jason must have sensed her scrutiny because he gradually drifted awake, smiling slowly when he woke to her big blue eyes. It wasn't the first time he had awoken next to her and he was once again struck by how right it felt.

"You stayed," she smiled, her eyes glittering from under a curtain of chocolate silk.

Jason's eyes softened and he lifted one hand to brush her hair back, lingering on her petal-soft skin. "I told you I would."

She accepted that with a broad smile and a light blush. Neither made any move to get up despite the fact that it was late. Jason's large hand was splayed out low against her back and he rubbed broad circles across the thin sweater she still wore.

"How do you feel?"

The brunette lifted one shoulder lazily, kicking her feet in the air and showing no intention of moving off of him. "Not too bad."

Amusement kicked up the corner of his mouth. "No killer hangover?"

She rolled her eyes. "Jason, I wasn't _that_ drunk – I was a little buzzed." Elizabeth stopped for a minute, then giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking – the only time I have a real, honest conversation with you is when there's alcohol is involved. That doesn't say very much for our friendship."

He chuckled and shifted underneath her. "Did you mean it?"

"Hm?"

Jason's finger tickled the underside of her jaw as he peered up at her, curious to see how much she remembered. "What you said last night."

The smile drifted off her face and she gazed down at him soberly. "I meant it."

"So did I."

* * *

"Oh, look, Stefan, it's the graduates." Bobbie Cassidine was all grins as Elizabeth, Lisa, Jen, and Penny came down the stairs to start their day. Jason followed close behind, pulling his keys out of his pocket and ready to spend another day working on getting the garage back up. He had furniture to buy and final electrical plans to look over, and with a little luck and elbow grease he'd be able to move into it in little more than a week. Luke had taken over permanently until Bobbie hired another cook, and things had been going very smoothly for a while. "Aren't they lovely, Stefan?"

The girls blushed and rolled their eyes as the Greek businessman laughed. "You ladies should be very proud of yourselves," he informed them seriously. "Graduating is no small feat, and I offer you heartfelt congratulations."

This only prompted more blushing, and the girls thanked him before quickly getting ready for another workday. Lisa and Jen started pouring coffee while Elizabeth absently took a seat at the counter, frowning as she checked her voicemail. Jason sidled up behind her and quickly snagged a cup for himself, glancing at his watch and then the petite brunette.

"What's wrong?"

She was staring at her phone with a troubled look on her face. "That was Emily."

"What happened?"

"Johnny's father got into an accident on the farm and they had to leave in the middle of the night to get down there to him." Her large eyes were sad and anxious. "Gosh, I hope he's okay."

"Did they say what kind of an accident?"

"Something about barbed wire," she replied, reaching for her hot chocolate. "I'm not sure, but Emily said he didn't break anything, he just lost some blood."

"He'll be fine," Jason assured her. "It'll be okay."

"I hope so," the brunette sighed. "Well, I guess they won't be back by the day after tomorrow. I had their tickets and everything." She shrugged and slid off the stool but not before giving him a questioning look. "Hey, what are you doing Saturday morning?"

"Nothing much."

Hope shined in those magical eyes. "Do you…gosh, I meant to ask you this a while ago but chickened out. Do you think maybe…you'd like to come to my graduation?"

The mechanic smiled easily and set his empty cup on the counter for Lisa to toss into the dishwasher. "I'll be there, Elizabeth."

A brilliant smile bloomed on her face and the petite brunette was throwing her arms around his neck before he could blink. "Oh, thank you, Jason! At first I didn't think you'd want to so I didn't ask, but thank you so much! I'm so glad!"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her dark hair. "Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

Graduation gowns had always been notoriously ugly since the dawn of man and institutions of learning, which was why Jason could not for the life of him figure out why he thought Elizabeth looked gorgeous anyway.

She wore a brilliant smile as she got up from her seat and walked across the stage to accept her diploma, and Jason couldn't contain his own smile when she met his eyes directly and flashed him a gigantic grin. He clapped louder than he remembered clapping for anything before, and the little minx shot him a quick wink right before she claimed her seat.

He rose to his feet as the graduates tossed their caps and then the ceremony was over. All guests and students were ushered outside into the beautiful courtyard to meet up, and Jason absently popped the third button of his dress shirt as he stepped into the sunshine, looking for Elizabeth. He spotted Lisa and Jen with several members of their family, and quickly congratulated them before resuming his search.

He spotted her under a weeping willow tree a few yards away and managed to maneuver his way through the thick crowd. He was just about to call out to her when a young man with curly brown hair and a dark suit stepped in front of him and made a beeline for the little brunette. Jason watched, confused, as Elizabeth's eyes lit up and she launched herself into the man's arms. He picked her up and whirled her about, making her squeal, then gave her a big bear hug and a kiss.

His sandy brows furrowed and Jason pushed through the crowd. Elizabeth was in mid-sentence when she spotted him, and a beautiful smile bloomed on her face.

"Jason!" In an instant, she was out of the interloper's arms and in his own, pecking his cheek and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He hugged her back while quirking a somewhat defiant brow at the curly-haired man, who stared back with confusion. "There you are! I'm so glad you came – thank you!"

"I told you I wouldn't miss it for anything," he replied in a tighter voice than usual. The brunette grinned brightly up at him, one arm around his waist and the other hand splayed across his chest, before she remembered that they had an audience.

"Oh, Jason, you have to meet someone," she said, turning her sparkling eyes on the other man but remaining in his arms. The mechanic tightened his hold on her waist, curious to know who the stranger was. "This is my brother, Steven Lars. Steven, this is Jason Morgan."

Relief flooded through him and Jason grasped the older man's extended hand. "Nice to meet you, Jason," Steven smiled, tipping his head. "I'm sorry; I guess I took both of you by surprise. You obviously have plans, so-"

"Don't be silly, Steven," Elizabeth admonished, smoothing her hand down Jason's arm and twining her fingers with his. "I never see you anyway, and I'm thrilled you could stop by." She turned her doe eyes on Jason, explaining, "Steven's a doctor downstate and he's on his way to Mercy – it's Mercy, right?"

Her brother nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yup. I have to be there in a couple hours, so I figured I had time to see my baby sister graduate. I know I didn't call; I was planning on surprising you. But, please-" He gestured to the two of them and their linked hands. "-If you have plans, don't let me keep you."

"Steven, you just got here," Elizabeth frowned. "We haven't even had a chance to catch up."

Jason glanced down at the petite brunette. The disappointment in her voice was evident, and now it was his turn to step up to the plate. "Actually, I was going to take her out to lunch, and it'd be great if you came with us."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up and she squeezed his hand, looking up eagerly at her big brother. "Yeah, come with, Steven."

The doctor shrugged, smiling. "How can I resist that offer? Let's go."

The brunette was grinning broadly, and she quickly handed her cap and her diploma cover to Jason. Taking a step back, she pulled her blue gown over her head and stuffed that in his arms, too. "Great – Jason, can you hold these for a sec? I have to go get some stuff, and then we can go."

He nodded and watched her disappear into the throng of people to retrieve her purse and other effects from the student lounge. Steven watched, a hint of a smile curving his lips, as Jason folded up the robe and tucked it under his arm. He hadn't been around much while Elizabeth was growing up; he was too busy getting through college, studying for board exams, and then doing his residency. He missed out on getting to teach his sister how to drive, and he was unable to threaten to pound the crap out of her prom date. He didn't really know much about her love life or who her friends were, but Elizabeth was a good girl. Out of the three Webber children, she was probably the best. But just because she refused to aspire for that M.D. after her name, their parents seemed to have brushed her off in favor of him and Sarah. He admired his sister for not letting it get to her like it should; she was something special, Elizabeth was. And if she chose to spend time with this Jason Morgan fellow, then he must be worth it.

"So, Jason, what do you do?"

The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm a mechanic."

"Oh, so you own your own place, or-"

Steven watched the younger man shake his head. "I used to," he replied gruffly. "But there was an accident and I lost it."

"What kind of accident?"

"Electrical fire," he replied without skipping a beat. "I've been working at my aunt's diner for a while now in order to open it up again – that's how Elizabeth and I met. It should be ready in about a week or so."

"Ah, so lots of stuff to do," Steven smiled knowingly. "Me and a friend of mine opened our own practice a few years ago. If I had known just how much work actually went into it, I might have reconsidered." Jason nodded once and the doctor scratched his chin. "So, if you don't mind my asking…how long have you and my sister been together?"

Jason's eyes widened and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. "Oh, Elizabeth and I, we're- we're not…togeth-"

"Really?" Steven drawled, rather amused by how flustered the younger man suddenly was. "You're not dating or-"

"No," Jason answered, awkwardly shifting his weight once more. "We're just…friends."

"Aha." The framed certificate on the wall of his office proved to the world that he was no idiot, and therefore Steven Lars highly doubted Jason's explanation. "So I don't get to tell you that if you hurt my sister, I get to put you six feet under?"

Jason quirked a brow at the slender doctor. "No."

"I see," Steven smirked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers once more. "I guess I'll have to save that schpiel for later, then," he added with a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

"What schpiel?" Elizabeth asked, appearing between them just then with her purse and a small tote bag. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Steven replied, grinning broadly at his confused sister and the uncomfortable mechanic. He looped his arm through Elizabeth's, smirking once more when she immediately looped hers through Jason's. "I believe you promised me lunch, Lizbits."

* * *

"Whoot! Kegger!"

Elizabeth turned around laughing as Tom and a couple of their friends burst into her studio with a few kegs and tons of ice. "And who's supposed to drink all that, Tommy Boy?"

The dark haired waiter winked at her as he lugged the metal container over to the benches she had cleaned off for the impromptu party. "You just leave that to us, Web."

Her spacious studio was slowly but steadily filling up with her fellow graduates, and Elizabeth ushered them all in. Lunch with Jason and her brother had been wonderful, and Steven had departed shortly after, but not before whispering in her ear that he thought Jason was a good guy. After that, she had come home to the studio to take a nap and waking up, decided she was bored. A few phone calls later, she and her friends had managed to arrange an impromptu party – Tommy and the boys brought drinks, Penny and her favorite twins brought food from Kelly's, and everyone brought music.

Drew and a couple of his friends were clearing her easels away and folding them up in the corner of the rooms before rolling up the blue mats that lined her dancing studio. Those went into the closet with everything else and the studio was officially party-ready.

Guests kept on streaming in and before long, a certain very confused mechanic hesitantly rapped on the frame of her door.

"Jason!" Elizabeth's eyes lit up with joy and several of her friends looked up to see just who it was that made her so happy. "I'm so glad you came!"

"What's going on?" he asked, seeing the kegs in the corner and the abundance of graduates. "Graduation party?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"An excuse to get drunk and play music really loud?"

The brunette tipped her head. "That sounds more like it."

The mechanic chuckled despite himself. "And why did you think you had to call me?"

"Because you don't party nearly enough," she scolded, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room. Spinning around, she maintained her grip on his hands behind her back and continued to lead him through the veritable throng of new graduates. Their trek gave Jason ample time to examine the lovely view of her backside; the brunette wore a soft pink baby tee over a pink seamless bra that he could only barely make out, paired with her favorite denim miniskirt. On her feet were a pair of baby pink ballet flats and an anklet made of white seashells. "So today, Morgan, you party like it's 1999."

"What?"

"Work with me here, Jason."

He shrugged and tipped his head at Penny and Seth as he passed them. Lisa and Jen could be heard squealing somewhere, and he finally saw them gathered in a tight cluster of their friends around Elizabeth's precious stereo system. They were both clearly surprised to see him, and promised to turn the music up extra loud just for him, giggling at the less-than-thrilled look on his face.

"You hungry?" Elizabeth asked, steering him toward the odds-and-ends food spread they had going on. "We've got things here that are so chocolaty and sugary and disgustingly awesome that they'll make you want to commit Hara-Kiri on the spot."

He grimaced and shook his head. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"None of that, now, Morgan," she scolded, grabbing a brownie and stuffing half of it into her mouth as he pretended to gag. "Want a beer?"

"Yeah," he replied, taking off his jacket and looking for somewhere to toss it. Elizabeth took it from him and led him over to one of her small individual couches that was miraculously unoccupied. She quickly spread the jacket over the back of the sofa chair and then placed both her hands flat on Jason's chest, shoving him back so that he fell into it. Shooting him a wink, she moved away to grab a drink for them.

He watched her walk right past the kegs – or attempt to, rather. Drew, who as of yet hadn't seen him arrive, grabbed her waist and practically scooped Elizabeth up off the ground. The brunette squealed and kicked at him, laughing as he tickled at her. Jason gritted his teeth together and would have gotten up to show the little punk what was what when Drew gestured to the unopened keg. Turned out, all he needed was a tap. Jason's eyes widened when Elizabeth pulled open one of her drawers and grabbed the needed accessory. The girl owned a tap. Unbelievable.

Drew and a kid that the others called Tom – the waiter from the Grille, most likely – began to pour drinks for everyone. But instead of grabbing two for herself and him, Elizabeth squeezed over to her own refrigerator and snagged two frosty bottles. Jason grinned his appreciation when she handed him one, and twisted it open to take a long pull.

The brunette stood next to him, lacking a chair, and then thinking better of it, took Jason's beer from his hand. The mechanic frowned but didn't have time to voice his disapproval before the young woman nimbly climbed into his lap. It was a tight fit; he took up most of the sofa chair on his own, and she delicately arranged herself across his lap before handing him back his drink. Not one to complain in a situation such as this, Jason just took another long pull from his bottle.

Tom happened to pass them on his way across the room when he noticed Elizabeth and smiled. "Hey, you holdin' out on us, Webber?"

She tipped her bottle at him and took a small sip. "Yup."

"What's the big idea?" he teased, shaking his ice cubes in his cup.

"Because it's my party," she replied primly, making a face at him.

"And what about him?" Tom asked, jerking his chin at a silent Jason. "Tom McCaine, by the way."

"Jason Morgan."

"Nice to meet you." Again, the dark haired boy tipped his head in Jason's direction, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. "What's his story?"

"Well, I happen to like Jason a whole lot better than I like you," she replied with a haughty grin.

"So that's how it is," her friend replied, shaking his head. "I'd get a class-action suit going here, but if I don't get some booze in me, stat, it's not going to be pretty."

Elizabeth giggled and watched him walk away, settling back comfortably against Jason's chest. "That's Tom from the Grille."

"I figured."

"Liz, can we crank it up?"

"Go for it!" She yelled back to her friends before quickly turning back to Jason. "Brace yourself."

He had no idea what she meant until it started – that earth-shattering, piercing, Richter-tipping noise masquerading as music. "What the f-"

"I warned you."

"You should have warned me to leave the biosphere instead of just saying 'brace yourself'," he groused, still cringing.

"Oh, hush," she scolded, smacking him playfully on the chest. "That's Eliot's band right there, so don't you dare say anything mean."

"Who's Eliot?"

"A friend of mine – we worked together at the Community Center," she explained, her eyes catching a young man with scruffy brown hair. "Hold on – there he is. Eliot! Get over here!"

The rocker looked over and spotted her. He threw his head back, whisking the long brown locks away, and calmly ambled over. Jason raised a brow at his baggy pants that were practically hanging down to his knees and the silver dog tag around his neck. "What's going on?"

"Eliot, this is Jason," Elizabeth introduced them. "He's been dying to meet you."

Both men looked at her strangely and the brunette giggled at them before she noticed his shirt. "Oh, hey – the band shirt! It came out great!"

"Didn't it?" Eliot asked, proudly stretching the shirt out for them to get a good luck at. "Only because we had a great designer, though."

"Oh, you – stop that," Elizabeth replied cattily, batting her lashes at her friend.

"You made that?" Jason wanted to know, cocking his head at the image on Eliot's shirt. The shirt was entirely black with white tombstones and the white silhouette of a couple kissing behind them. Smudges and specks peppered the background and it had a very grunge look to it. Under the image in simple typewriter text, he saw what he assumed to be the name of the band: _Too Much Sweet Revenge_. "It's good."

"It was fun," Elizabeth admitted. "I never get a chance to do anything like that. Plus, it's great publicity, I guess."

"It really is," Eliot agreed. "I always make sure everyone who asks knows where I got it from. You'll be getting a lot more requests for stuff like this soon, Liz, I bet."

She smiled and blushed slightly, nodding when Eliot excused himself to grab some food and a drink. "Ah, art – yet another thing I won't be able to parlay into a successful career."

"Stop," Jason murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her crashing against him. "You're not going to do that to yourself today. Just sit back, relax, drink your beer, and try not to jump out of your skin at this god-forsaken excuse for music."

The brunette rolled her eyes but didn't bother scolding him. The party raged on around them as her former classmates ate, danced, and cranked the music up even louder until Jason looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Across the room, Drew was standing around with Penny and a couple of their friends from school, and the little group happened to look over just when Elizabeth, having finished her own beer, took a gulp of Jason's.

"They're such a cute couple," one blonde in their company noted with a smile. "Don't you think?"

Penny bit her tongue and just smiled. "They really are." Or at least, they would be, sooner or later depending on when they decided to wise up.

"Liz sure knows how to pick 'em," their red-headed friend spoke up. "That guy's freaking gorgeous. If I didn't like her so much, I'd have to hate her."

Penny laughed at that as Drew took another gulp of his drink, smiling broadly at the couple as they sat tangled up together in the little chair, looking perfectly aloof as chaos reigned around them. "_I_ helped get them together, you know," he boasted, smiling proudly at Elizabeth until Jason noticed his stare and glared darkly at him.

Elizabeth didn't notice how Drew almost dropped his cup or how Jason's lips curved into a wicked half-smirk. She was busy trying to shuck her shoes and convince Tom to run to her fridge and get her a bottle of something fruity. Her friend finally obliged and handed her a bottle of sparkling fruit punch, even staying around for a few minutes to chat with her and Jason. He excused himself to fill up his cup again when something occurred to him and he motioned for the gang to turn the music down.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief as Tom rapped on the workbench to get everyone's attention. "Hey, guys! We forgot something!"

The gang eventually quieted down long enough to hear what he had to say. "We completely forgot – Liz has to make a toast."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes with a laugh and just cuddled up against Jason, throwing her arm around his neck. "You stopped the music for that? Forget it, Tommy Boy."

"Toast!"

"Speech, speech!" a couple of her girlfriends echoed.

"Come on, Liz, you have to say a little something."

"Fine, fine," she relented, cracking open her sparkling fruit punch once more and lifting it. Her friends followed suit and raised their brightly colored cups. "All right, what are we going to toast… Oh, okay. First, to me, for being fabulous."

A few people scoffed with laughter and Jason couldn't help but chuckle as a chorus of "here, here!"s rang out.

"Second, to everyone who managed to survive the year in Cavenaugh's class," the brunette continued, her eyes sparkling. "You are truly great of heart and mighty of spirit and strong of soul…oh, wait, we had to sell that to get those grades, didn't we? Okay, nix the soul part."

This time, the agreement was much stronger than before. "To selling our souls!"

"Third, to all the lucky bastards that weren't in Cavenaugh's class."

"To the lucky bastards!"

"Heck," she added, "to everyone who managed to get through four years at PCU – we totally earned our right to get rip-roaring drunk today, god damn it."

The statement was met with a chorus of laughter and hearty agreement, and Elizabeth lifted her bottle for the last time.

"And also, to Jason." A confused silence fell over the room and even the man in question looked up at her, confused. "To Jason who in two weeks will finally be able to open up Morgan's Garage after one hell of a setback – he's going to be great. So if you ever need your, um, oil fixed or those sparky things changed…yeah, go to him, because I clearly don't have a clue of what I'm talking about."

Her friends laughed and she lifted her bottle to her lips. "Go nuts, folks."

The music was instantly cranked up to extra loud once more and the revelry continued. Elizabeth stretched back languidly into Jason's arms, and the mechanic could only watch her. She was carrying on a long-distance conversation with Lisa across the room, and had to shout out every word to be heard over the music, and didn't notice the way his eyes lingered on her face. The girl really was something else – she had confided to him about her darkest fears about not being able to make anything of herself, she had invited him to her graduation and introduced him to her brother, and then her little announcement…

A peculiar feeling that he had been fighting off for weeks slammed into him all at once, and Jason had to blink a couple times before he fully comprehended what was going on in his head.

Aw, hell – he'd gone and fallen in love with the girl.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Note:** For CC and Tracy, and all the rest of the Kinky 9.

**Chapter Twenty**

"He really said that?" Emily O'Brien's green eyes were wide and sparkling as she lifted another cheese fry to her lips. "I mean, seriously?"

"Oh, yeah," Elizabeth nodded emphatically, reaching for her soda. "I couldn't make this stuff up, Em. He really did say it!"

"He wants to be your best friend," the young woman sighed, pretending to swoon. "Oh, that's so cute."

"I know, isn't it?" The brunette's sapphire orbs were dazzling as she flicked the straw with her tongue. "Gosh, Em, you have no idea – when I woke up to find him still there with me, and he said he meant what he said the night before…oh, man. I completely melted."

"He's a keeper, he is." She played with the ice in her cup, swirling it around and around before motioning to the waitress for a refill. "So what else happened while I was gone?"

"Well, the gang came over after graduation and we threw a little party." Elizabeth saw Emily open her mouth and stopped her with a quick glare. "And if you apologize once more, Emily O'Brien, I'm going to scream – it wasn't your fault that you couldn't be there so don't you dare think it is."

"You know I wouldn't have dreamed of missing it," the redhead sighed. "I've been looking forward to it for months. But-"

"I know, I know," Elizabeth cut in, waving her hand at the young woman. "Trust me, I'm just glad Papa O'Brien's doing better. He really scared us there."

Emily nodded emphatically. "He's a tough old goat, though. That's what Johnny always said. And he was right. But anyway, tell me about the party. Who came?"

"Practically everyone," Elizabeth replied. "I even called Jason over and he stayed until everyone left. I mean, he made sure to point out three million times that the assortment of brownies alone would send me to an early grave, and that the music was so loud that it'd crack the foundation, and I think I caught him glaring at Drew once or twice, but he still stayed and helped me take all the trash out afterwards. Then we went out to dinner."

Emily remained silent as her best friend rambled on, choosing instead to just study the brunette guardedly. Elizabeth's eyes sparkled when she talked about Jason, and the happiness in her voice was evident as well. In fact, Emily hadn't ever seen her friend like this before – things must have really changed during the two weeks that she was gone. Though it was easy for her to see the difference, she found herself wondering offhandedly if Elizabeth actually did or not.

"We've just been having the best time together," Elizabeth sighed, letting a smile dance over her lips. "It feels like I've known him forever." She polished off another fry and saw Emily open her mouth only to snap it shut abruptly. "What?"

"N-Nothing," the redhead stammered awkwardly, not even sounding fully convinced herself. "I…just forget it."

"No, what is it?" Curious now, Elizabeth quirked a brow at her best friend. "Say it, Em."

Emily studied the clean fork that lay next to her plate, debating the best way to say what was on her mind. In the end, she went with what Johnny always suggested – she just spit it out. "Elizabeth, what are your feelings for Jason now?"

The brunette's dark brows furrowed together. "What do you mean? We're friends."

Emily sucked a breath in through her teeth, making a skeptical hissing noise. "See, are you, though? I mean, are you friends?"

The brunette was staring at her. "Yeah, we are."

The defensive note in her voice did not go missed by Emily, who reminded herself to tread carefully – she was on dangerous ground. Especially considering how stubborn Elizabeth could be, or how she had a habit of scaring like a Welsh rabbit when things seemed to lose the first semblance of control. "I'm not trying to say you're not – obviously, you are. You guys spend lots of time together and you probably know him the best out of anyone in this town except for Bobbie. What I'm trying to get at is…are you sure you're _just_ friends?"

Elizabeth lifted one brow humorlessly at her. "What are you saying?"

"Well, it sounds like – correct me if I'm wrong – but it sounds like you guys are more than that. I've seen the way he looks at you, Elizabeth, so I'm not worried about that – I'm just asking, are you sure you haven't developed real feelings for him?"

The brunette just gaped at her, her lips parted in surprise, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to come up with anything to say.

Nervousness set in once Emily noticed that all the blood seemed to have drained from Elizabeth's face. Hurriedly, she tried to reassure her friend. "Not that it's wrong if you have – I didn't mean that at all. Because if you really do…you know…then I think it's great." Letting out an irritated huff, Emily rubbed her temples. This conversation was not at all what she meant for it to be. For Christ's sake, they sounded like a couple of schoolgirls, and this was more serious than that.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to channel her husband and his dog-after-a-bone attitude. "Elizabeth, are you or are you not in love with him?"

"What!" she squawked, banging her palm flat against the table. Her chair scraped against the floor as she abruptly pushed it back. "No, I am _not_!"

Emily just looked at her with raised brows. Everything in Elizabeth's voice screamed panic and cover-up, and she knew in an instant that she had been right. "Careful there, hon – your pants might catch fire."

If looks could kill, Emily would have been struck down on the spot. Elizabeth's dark eyes shot daggers at her as the brunette leaned closer, palms flat against the table, and hissed, "I am _not_ in love with him."

Letting out a sigh, Emily leaned in as well. "There's nothing wrong with it if you are," she reminded her gently. "I mean, I know this started out as a game, a stupid plan that we cooked up because we had way too much time on our hands."

Elizabeth opened her mouth with a retort but Emily continued anyway.

"Sure, it was about teaching Jason a lesson, and it was also about you getting into the swing of things. I get that. But what if…somewhere along the line…it turned into something more?" Her emerald eyes were wide, beseeching Elizabeth to at least think it over before she ran away from it. "What if he's the one? Have you thought about that?"

Her chair scraped against the floor as Elizabeth pushed herself back completely, abruptly standing up and squeezing past her best friend. "I don't want to talk about this."

"We _have_ to talk about this," Emily hissed, doing her best to keep from attracting too much attention.

"I _have_ to get back to work," her best friend corrected coolly, already heading toward the counter to take up her apron once more.

But Emily wouldn't have any of that. Quickly, she stood up and grabbed her best friend's elbow. "Elizabeth, you need to think about this – if there's actually something more going on here, then as your friend I'm not just going to let you ignore it. What if this is your one chance for real happiness? Are you willing to give up on that?"

"Let me go!" the brunette snarled, trying to rip her arm out of Emily's grasp. "You have no right-"

"Elizabeth, this isn't a game anymore!"

Furious, the waitress turned on her heel and looked the redhead directly in the eyes. She was visibly seething and she had to fight to keep her voice low and under control, but there was no mistaking her anger. "Back off, Em. This is none of your business."

"_You're_ my business," Emily corrected hotly. "If something affects you, then it affects me."

"Contrary to what you may think, not everything in this world revolves around you! What's going on between me and Jason is only between me and Jason!" Her dark sapphire eyes were narrowed and blazing. "So just back off and quit butting into everything! You think that everyone around you needs your opinion – news flash, Em: we're perfectly capable of managing our lives without you! So just back the hell off!"

The redhead steeled her jaw, her cold emerald eyes looking directly back into Elizabeth's. "You want me to back off? Fine." Turning on her heel, she angrily grabbed her purse from the table and headed for the door, but not before looking over her shoulder. "See if I _ever_ try to help you out again. My mistake for thinking you were actually brave enough to listen."

Before Elizabeth could spit back a nasty retort, the redhead flung open the door and stomped out, letting the door slam behind her. The few customers that remained in the diner looked up curiously at her noisy departure and then turned back to their business, but Elizabeth just stood there glaring daggers at the door her best friend had just left through.

She couldn't get over the nerve of the woman – to march back into town after missing what was probably the most important moment of her life in Port Charles, spewing some nonsense about falling in love with Jason and…

Shaking her head briskly, Elizabeth stomped into the kitchen. She needed to find something to do and remain busy – she just couldn't think about what Emily had said right now.

* * *

Max Giambetti hiked up his worn jeans and padded over to some of the members of his crew who were smoking under the tall shademaster locust tree on Jason's property. They had put in long hours today but managed to get most of the major wiring done; they were moving faster than they had anticipated. Soon, they'd be finishing up the insulation and applying the first coat of paint to the drywall, and after that, Jason could start moving his furniture in.

A dark-haired man tipped his head at Max as the foreman strode up to them. "Hey, Francis," he greeted him gruffly. "Is Jason around?"

"You just missed him," Francis Corelli replied, letting out a puff of smoke and watching as it curled into the air. "If I had a nickel for every time I said that…"

Max laughed. "Yeah, we don't have the greatest track record – whenever I need to see him, he's already cut out. Any idea where he's gone, or when he'll be back?"

"I have a feeling he'll be busy the rest of the night," a young man by the name of Adam smirked, taking a bite out of his ham sandwich.

Francis quirked a brow at the boy, amused. "And what do ya mean by that?"

Adam shrugged. "I heard him take a phone call – some woman, and I think she asked him to come home because he told her he would and he left right afterwards. Who knows?" He shrugged indifferently. "Maybe his wife or something, like Seth was saying."

"Is Morgan married?" one of the older workers spoke up. "I didn't know that."

"I think he is," another worker replied. "Her name's Elizabeth, if I'm rememberin' right. I heard him on the phone a while back with one of his friends and he cancelled on some plans because he said that Elizabeth was sick or something and he was going to stay with her."

"I haven't seen him wearing a wedding band," Francis frowned, still not convinced.

Max quirked a brow at him. "Are _you_ wearing your wedding band right now, Francis?"

The Italian glanced down at the visible tan line on his ring finger. "Only because I don't want anything to happen to it while we're workin' here," he replied defensively. "It's at home on my dresser. I didn't wanna lose it in the rubble or nothin'."

The foreman shrugged. "Maybe Jason doesn't wear it for the same reason," he replied. "Besides, if I were a mechanic, _and_ I was rootin' around on a construction site, I'd make sure mine was safe, too, otherwise the little Missus would have my balls in a jar."

"Ain't that the truth?" Francis agreed with a laugh. "Anyway, I just think that it's strange – he never mentioned her or nothin' in front of the rest of us."

"Jason's a quiet guy," Adam offered, finishing off the last of his sandwich and stuffing the sandwich bag into the pocket of his denim jeans. "He doesn't talk much. Did you really expect him to give you the details of his personal life?"

"If there is a Missus, how come she hasn't been around to visit the garage?" Francis countered suspiciously. "After all, she's gonna be movin' in soon, too. And there are a whole lotta rooms in this place for one guy alone – she's gotta be gettin' a sewing room or office out of the deal. Why wouldn't she come check it out?"

"When I had our house built, Kris didn't come see it until it was done, either," Max cut in. "She wanted to wait and see the whole thing. Besides, she already knew what she was getting because the woman had practically memorized the floor plans. So there weren't going to be any surprises. And since Jason planned the garage out himself to every last detail, Mrs. Morgan probably already knows what the place is going to look like." He shrugged again and then reached for his cell phone. "She'll probably come around when it's time to decide on paint colors for the walls and window treatments and where to put the damn plants – women like that sort of thing."

Adam was chuckling as Max quickly flipped his phone open before turning to his men. "You guys can go home for the night – we're not going to get much else done. I'm leaving Jason a message to meet us early tomorrow, and we'll try to finish up the central wiring. The insulation's coming in some time in the afternoon, so we'll have to store it in the garage until we can get around to putting it up." His men nodded as Max found Jason's number in his stored directory and clicked to connect. "But for tonight, we'll just let him and Mrs. Morgan take it easy."

* * *

Elizabeth kicked the back door open and stomped into the alley, lugging a black garbage bag full of trash. Huffing all the way, she dragged it to the dumpster and heaved it in, dusting her hands together out of habit before wiping them on her black jeans.

Stupid Emily.

A sneer curled her lips downward and the brunette was about to stalk back into the building to grab a sweater before Jason got there, but a pair of headlights on the brick wall stopped her in her tracks.

Turning around, she saw the one thing that could lift her spirits at a time like this. Jason Morgan, wearing his leather jacket over a blue t-shirt and straddling that wonderful motorcycle of his.

She didn't know what it was about the scene that practically brought tears to her eyes, and she felt really foolish trying to blink them away before he got close enough to see. There was something so soothing about Jason's presence when she was feeling terrible; no matter what, he always seemed to be able to fix everything so that it wasn't so terrible anymore. He knew how to get through to her, he knew how to talk her down from her ledge, and he was one of the few people that accepted her mood and let her be angry when she felt like it, and sad when she felt like it.

Just seeing him made her feel better, and a heavy feeling began to grow and spread low in her belly as Emily's words echoed through her head. Pushing those thoughts back, Elizabeth forced herself to smile as Jason coasted to a stop and put the kickstand down.

He could see straight through her façade as usual, and didn't waste any words in greeting. "Wanna go for a ride?"

She nodded, certain that her voice would betray her if she chose to use it. Jason tossed a sympathetic half-smile her way before shrugging out of his jacket, offering it to her as she neared him. Elizabeth hurriedly threw it on before jumping onto the bike behind him, latching on to his waist as Jason put his feet on the pedals and roared out of the dark alley.

* * *

"I've never seen that trail before," she murmured softly, glancing back up the hill toward where Vista Point lay. "Where are we?"

"The bridge," he replied simply, pointing out the dark creek that ran silently under a solid stone bridge only a few yards across. "I come here sometimes. I thought you might want to see it."

She wiggled her fingers in his, enjoying the warmth of his hand, and followed slowly as he led them over to it. The stone was cool and rough under her fingertips as she skimmed them over the thick edge, her eyes trained on the inky black water underneath. She could already see the beginning of a painting come to life in her mind, and it was beautiful. Dark and secretive, mysterious. Curious splashes of pale moonlight on inky, indefinite waves. The rough, eroded stones that matched the glow of the moon. Brooding pine trees as they stood like silent sentinels on both sides of the water, shielding the bridge and its patrons as if the area was some enchanted, hidden land far removed from the rest of the world.

Jason seemed to know exactly what she was thinking; it was clearly visible in those expressive eyes of hers. Tugging on their linked hands, he brought her up to the ledge and leaned over, staring down at the water, and Elizabeth immediately followed suit.

He watched her out of the corner of his eyes as she forlornly studied the small waves and multiple ripples, propping her cheek up in her hand. Finally, she shifted closer and nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "Hey." He turned to look at her, waiting for her to continue. Sure enough, after indulging in a sad little sigh, she did. "I'm sorry about dumping all that stuff on you earlier. It wasn't fair of me, but…I don't know. Emily just made me really mad."

"It's okay to vent, you know that," he replied honestly, clasping his hands together in front of himself. As they sat around at Vista Point, she slowly began to tell him why she was so upset. She and Emily had a fight earlier in the day, and although he wasn't too sure of what it was about – Elizabeth didn't really feel like expounding but had just told him it was stupid anyway – he knew how upset she was. After all, she had said, she only had two best friends in the world and she hated that one of them had to be such a witch sometimes.

He hadn't really known what to say to any of it, so he had let her go on for a while, venting out her frustration. It seemed to help, because she seemed a bit better after she had purged herself of it all.

A wistful smile kicked up the corner of her mouth. "You're really great, you know that?"

Jason turned to face her again, a sly smirk pulling at his lips. Elizabeth tilted her head, eyeing him thoughtfully, and the moonlight cascaded over her porcelain skin, making it glow. "You let me go on and on about what's bugging me, and you never try to shut me up or tell me I'm being childish. This is going to sound silly, but sometimes it feels good to be childish. Just for a little while – to let out all your anger and your insecurities and every gripe you have with the world. Because you just feel much better after that. You know, you should try it."

"I don't really have much to complain about," Jason replied with a little smirk as he turned to the water again. And it was the truth – he really didn't. His garage was almost up and running again, and he planned to open it up the first day after he moved everything in. After all, there was no guaranteeing that he'd get work right away, so he wanted to get a head start. Hopefully, once word spread that he was back in business, his regular customers would return. He was pretty confident about that.

In general, things in his life were going well. He got to see his aunt more often ever since he had moved in to the diner, and he knew how much it meant to her. And besides that, he had Elizabeth. She lifted his spirits every time he was with her, and Jason couldn't imagine going a single day without seeing those beautiful blue eyes or that dazzling smile he'd grown so used to.

"Such a typical Jason answer," she muttered, amused. "I don't think I've ever heard you complain."

He just shrugged. "Things are good."

"Yeah," the brunette murmured softly, studying his face as the moonlight struck his hard, angular features. "Yeah, things are good." An ant scurried past her hand and Elizabeth frowned at the little creature. "Well, they would be together if Em could just get her head out of her ass and stop thinking that she's involved in every aspect of my life."

Jason just smirked as Elizabeth hunkered down against the ledge and pouted out at the water. "I just want to knock her block off. I swear, one of these days - pow! To the moon!"

"Huh?"

"Old TV show."

"Oh." Jason glanced at the slender brunette and shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you could send anyone to the moon."

She frowned up at him, not pleased with what he was implying. "What do you mean?"

"Look at you," he chuckled. "You're small. How much force could you possibly pack?"

"Hey!" Elizabeth was glaring indignantly at him, and Jason only barely managed to contain his smile. "I'm stronger than I look, Morgan!"

"Yeah?" he challenged, backing away from the ledge and holding both his palms up at chest level. "Prove it. Hit me – right on the palm. Let's see what you can do."

She was nibbling her lip again, mangling it between two rows of pearly white teeth. "Oh, no, Jason, I couldn't hit _you_."

"You won't hurt me," he assured with a smile. "Just punch right into my palm; I want to see how hard you can do it." He could see her giving in, and he nodded as she curled her hands into fists. "That's it, just hit my hand as hard as you can."

Still a little unsure of herself, Elizabeth stepped closer and sent her balled fist directly into his open palm, creating a loud smacking noise in the quiet forest. "How's that?"

It took everything in him not to laugh at her. "You can do better," he insisted, widening his stance. "Come on, harder. As hard as you can. Don't worry about hurting me. Just do it as hard as you can."

She tried again and produced the same smacking sound, and Jason's voice was instantly spurring her on. "Again, harder, come on. You couldn't fluff a pillow with that kind of force."

Frowning, Elizabeth stepped back on one foot and forced herself to concentrate on directing as much pressure and force into his open palm as she could. She let loose and swung and to her delight, Jason nodded with approval. She tried again with the other hand, meeting his palm with a swift crack.

Tossing her a smirk, Jason wiggled his fingers, inviting her to do her worst. Elizabeth bit her lip to quell a mischievous giggle and was just about to make contact between her fist and his hand when he unexpectedly blocked her. Surprised, she acted more out of instinct than anything else and swung at him using her left hand. Somehow, as he blocked her again and pretended to execute a similar jab as the one he was teaching her, Elizabeth twisted her body around and found herself in Jason's arms with his hands on her hips and her back pressed against his chest.

His laughter rumbled underneath her and rustled through her hair, and she was shaking with a case of the giggles herself. Trying to compose herself, Elizabeth let him turn her around in his arms so that his hands were settled easily at the small of her back, anchoring her small form to his larger one. Her fingers curled into his muscular forearms as she continued to laugh, her eyes closed as the wind danced through her hair.

Jason smiled down at her, already feeling his heart begin to race at her proximity. One hand abandoned her tiny waist and gently tucked her loose hair behind her ear, lingering there as she chuckled. Slowly, as if hypnotized, Elizabeth let her lashes flutter and opened her wide blue eyes, staring deeply into his. A hint of a smile still floated on her lips but it slipped slowly away when she saw the intensity with which he was staring at her.

Jason's eyes bore into hers before drifting over her delicate features and finally coming to rest on her luscious mouth. Ever since the day she graduated from Port Charles University, he had wanted to let her know how he felt about her. When he had first been forced into close quarters with her at his aunt's diner, it had mainly been about attraction; she was nearby and she was with him constantly, and he would have been a blind fool not to notice her innocent beauty. But after his blunder in the kitchen, things had taken a turn for the unexpected. Instead of avoiding him, the little brunette had actually sought him out, and somehow, they had bonded. He had grown so used to spending time with her every day that he couldn't imagine not being able to do so.

There were so many times in the past two weeks where he had been painfully close to kissing her. That was all he could seem to think to do – it was primitive and boorish but, God help him, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and let her know once and for all that whatever it was that first drew them together, it had matured to the point that he couldn't go on without her.

Elizabeth gulped when she realized what he was staring at. Absently, her thumb stroked his biceps through the fabric of his shirt and she could hear Jason draw in a long breath through his nose. Emily's words fought their way to the forefront of her consciousness but she persistently brushed them back; she just couldn't think about it. She couldn't have thing spin out of control; she had to know what she was doing.

It would have been different if he actually told her himself that he felt something more. But he never did. And she definitely didn't plan on making the first move.

And that was the debilitating dilemma that they found themselves in. What Jason didn't know was that while he was trying to show Elizabeth how he felt with his actions, she was waiting for words; and what Elizabeth didn't know was that Jason Morgan didn't work well with words and chose instead to let the endless bike rides, the limitless pancakes, the never-ending rounds of pool at Jake's speak for him.

His lips were inching toward hers with deliberate slowness and Elizabeth's heart began to thunder in her chest. And it was when she felt his warm breath float over her lips that she panicked altogether and did the first thing she could think to do – she flung her arms around his neck and turned the would-be kiss into a hug.

Stunned, Jason could only snap his open mouth shut and numbly return her hug. For a second there, he had actually thought they might be able to finally get somewhere tonight. But once again, he had been wrong.

Elizabeth's tiny body trembled against his and, mistaking it for a reaction to the cool night breeze, Jason rubbed one hand up and down her back. Tears pricked at her eyes as Elizabeth buried her face in his shoulder, wondering when everything had become so alarmingly confusing.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Note:** It occurs to me that I really just don't like this story that much. The characters are as screwed up as the motives driving them, and I'm more than ready for this to be over. But I thank those of you that still like it, and I hope you enjoy this. Only about 4 chapters left.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Bobbie Cassadine's thin lips curved into a pleased smile as she made her way out of the kitchen at Kelly's with the accounting ledgers under her arm. Her nephew was glancing over the daily headlines as he sipped his coffee, and she squeezed his shoulder affectionately on her way out.

"Someone's in a good mood."

The young man looked up at the teasing lilt of her voice and smiled sheepishly at his aunt. "Hi, Aunt Bobbie."

The redhead rolled her eyes, knowing not to expect any more than that as an explanation for his good mood. She tucked a few errant receipts back into the book and scrounged around in her purse for her keys. "Going to the garage after lunch?" That was what usually put her nephew in good spirits.

Jason's lips curled into a smirk, which he tried without success to hide against the rim of his black coffee mug. "Even better – I'm showing Elizabeth the garage after lunch."

Bobbie's eyes lit up at the mention of one of her favorite waitresses. She knew by now that whatever Jason's feelings for the young woman were, they far surpassed those of friendship. But if the two lovebirds weren't ready to admit that yet, she wasn't planning to push. After all, she knew what she knew and that was good enough for her. "Oh, Jason – does that mean it's completely ready?"

He nodded once, knowing that the happiness that shone through his aunt's wide green orbs was genuine even though the older woman would be sad to see him leave Kelly's. They met almost every day since he had moved in, and he had to admit he enjoyed spending time with his aunt. But once he moved out and business at the garage picked up once more, their visits would be cut short.

"Almost," he replied, taking another gulp of the scalding hot coffee in his hand. "Everything's ready as far as wiring goes, finally, but not all of the furniture has been moved in yet."

"Please tell me you've at least got a working bathroom, Jason," his aunt frowned, setting her hand on her hip in an extremely matronly way that touched him deeply.

He set down his mug and crossed his arms over his chest, his blue eyes twinkling down at her. "Yes, Aunt Bobbie. And a fridge, too."

She ignored his patronizing and nodded her head definitively. "Good. A growing boy like you can't live in a house where you don't even have a fridge. When are you moving the furniture in?"

He shrugged, the movement only a lethargic rolling of his broad shoulders. "I think I'll bring in a mattress before dark, see if I want to spend the night there. If not, I'll just come back here. I'm having the guys move the rest of the stuff in tomorrow morning. There's not much of it, so it'll be okay."

Bobbie nodded, a hint of sadness creeping into her eyes. She knew that Jason was an independent young man – he had been ever since he was a little boy trying to go straight from a tricycle to a two-wheeler with no training wheels in between – and that this was something he had to do. Still, she was going to miss him. "It will," she nodded with conviction. "It'll be better than okay – it'll be better than the first time." She graced him with a watery smile, then reached up to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You're going to do wonderfully, Jason, I'm sure of it."

He just smiled down at her and Bobbie rapidly blinked to clear her eyes of moisture. She was never comfortable with these blatant shows of emotion around Jason because she knew that _he_ wasn't comfortable with it. "Well, I'll let you get back to…your plans. Have fun today."

Jason nodded his head and tugged at his ear, a boyish grin commanding his lips, and Bobbie paused for one last look at him before she left the diner. No sooner had she disappeared than Elizabeth could be heard hopping down the steps to the main floor. Since school was over, she had nothing pressing to do on her days off and was still dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and the _Boywatch_ tank top that doubled as part of her pajama set.

By the time she saw him, the little brunette was already halfway to the counter and there was nothing she could do except to toss a hesitant little smile his way. Jason's eyes twinkled as he returned her silent greeting with ease, and the older man stuffed his hands into his pocket as he loped closer to her. Things had been a little awkward between them since that day on the bridge, and Elizabeth had made herself scarce. She was quiet while she worked, and as soon as her shift was over she ran to cloister herself in her studio. When she returned the next morning, her jeans would boast multi-colored specks of paint.

He settled on leaving her alone for a little while; after all, it was because of him that she had bolted. He had tried to kiss her and moved a little too fast, and he didn't really blame her for running scared. It was a confusing time, more so for her than for him. He already knew what he wanted – Elizabeth. He knew it without the shadow of a doubt; his life just would not be complete without the spunky little brunette and all her crazy quirks and idiosyncrasies.

Elizabeth, however, had no reason to feel the same way about him. And that was why Jason was going to show her – as he thought he had been doing for a while now – how he felt. And maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky enough…she'd feel the same way.

She was shifting her weight from foot to foot as he prowled up alongside her, and the way her bangs fell across her eyes made her look much younger than she was. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied smoothly, a crooked half-grin tugging at his lips. "Get dressed."

Elizabeth sputtered a little on the soda she had poured herself and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What?"

"Get dressed," Jason replied simply, with no preamble as to what he had in store for them. "Meet me by my bike in fifteen minutes."

His smug smirk as he passed by intrigued her, and Elizabeth felt her face grow warm. This was the Jason Morgan that she was so used to – the Jason that was just her friend, nothing else, before everything got so complicated.

The past couple days had been just what she needed – an escape. First, she and Emily had a big blowout and then she had messed things up with Jason. She just couldn't help it; in that split second as his lips inched closer, she had lost it. A thousand thoughts whirled around in her head, having quite a dizzying effect as they fought for dominance. The scariest one of all was that maybe Emily was right – this had started out as a game, but somehow it had turned into something more. And she just wasn't ready to deal with that. And so she had avoided everyone for the past two days and just hid out in her studio, painting.

But this was different – somehow, things felt slightly more normal again. Just her and Jason, out on some as-of-yet unknown excursion. There was no harm in that, And besides, two days without a motorcycle ride was just pure insanity.

Biting her lip to contain an excited smile, she abandoned her soda on the counter and raced upstairs to get ready.

* * *

Jason's bike roared to a stop and he turned the ignition, killing the engine. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Elizabeth was already wrestling with her helmet in her excitement to see where he had brought her. He took it from her wordlessly and deposited it into the cab, a smile tugging on his lips when he saw her looking past them with a look of pure wonder on her face.

"Here it is."

Her open-mouthed gaping turned into a full grin, and the brunette squeezed his shoulder excitedly before hopping off the bike. "Your garage! It's done!"

Jason nodded proudly and slid off the bike, stuffing his keys into his pocket as a light breeze tousled his hair. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, almost evening, and the sky was clear. Elizabeth wore a light, summery A-line dress that flared out from her narrow waist with a tiny flower print in pink and green, paired with a thin white cardigan. He had been a little concerned about her wearing it on the bike because of the wind, but she had insisted. After all, the little brunette informed him, it was brand new and she wanted an excuse to wear it. And by that time, she had already wormed out the details of their secret destination from him, and pointed out that it was perfectly suitable for her to wear this on her first visit to his home.

It was strange, but he hadn't really thought of the garage as home since he had lost it the first time. After that, he went straight to Jake's, which definitely wasn't home, and then went to work rebuilding. Maybe it was all due to the fact that he had literally crafted the abode with his own hands, laying down meticulous plans for each square inch and mapping it down to the last electrical socket in the kitchen. But the garage now was just an empty room consisting of four walls and a roof. There was nothing in it, not even his bed, and he still hadn't come to think of it as a home even though he might be sleeping in it tonight.

The one place he actually did remember having those nostalgic, white-picket-fence feelings about was Kelly's. It might have been a little crowded and busy, he might have had to share a bathroom with the other boarders – most of whom were women and in the habit of leaving their lotions and shower gels and shaving gels and God only knew what else around to stink up the whole place with the smell of flowers and cucumbers – but it was nice. And he had Elizabeth right next door. A few weeks ago, the realization that he thought of Kelly's as a home purely because Elizabeth was there with him would have scared him; but now he knew it as the truth.

"It looks great!" She was beaming with pride for him as the little brunette excitedly took his hand, urging him to show her around. "Tell me you're going to have grass put in."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he instinctively gave her small hand a squeeze, remembering his conversation with his aunt after lunch. "Yes, I'm going to have grass put in."

"Hey!" The enthusiastic young woman was already moving on to other matters. "You know what you should do? You should paint your mailbox!"

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"_Why?"_ Elizabeth repeated, quirking a brow at him. "Why did Michelangelo paint the Sistine chapel, Jason?"

"Because he was commissioned by the Pope."

She rolled her eyes and swatted his muscular chest with the back of her hand. "Fine, maybe technically, yes. Better question – why did Michelangelo sculpt the _David_?"

"Because the city of Florence identified with the underdog that _David_ embodied, and Michelangelo used it to spur them on before the battle in which they cast off the rule of the Medici family."

Elizabeth was glaring at him out of the corner of her eyes, not giving him the satisfaction of receiving anything but her profile. "The other kids threw rocks at you when you were little, didn't they?"

He chuckled, a rusty sound that emanated from deep within his chest, and squeezed her small hand once more. "Why should I paint my mailbox?"

"You shouldn't," she huffed, irritated by his patronizing tone, and pouted at a scraggly tree on the perimeter of his property.

Jason smirked down at her and played with her small fingers, letting his thumb graze over the silver rings she wore. "Do _you_ want to paint my mailbox?"

That was all it took for her face to light up. "Could I?" He nodded and she grinned happily, walking closer to him and shouldering him innocently, and Jason gave her the satisfaction of stumbling a step or two. "Oh, I know what I'll do with it – it's going to look great! It'll be white with a motorcycle print on both sides, and-"

"Morning, Mr. Morgan." A young man walked past them carrying an extra roll of insulation over his shoulder to a nearby truck that stood parked into the driveway. He looked quizzically at Elizabeth before something dawned on him, and the brunette blinked with confusion when he shot her a quick smile.

Brushing it off, she tried to remember what she had been saying as Jason led her around the monstrous truck to the side of the house where she spotted a large group of men. Some were talking into their phones, others were eating, and some were smoking. This had to be Jason's crew.

Elizabeth slowed her steps along with Jason's, whose natural, loping gait was easy to keep up with. Their hands remained clasped together and their arms brushed against each other up to their elbows. A little unsure in the presence of the almost overwhelming group of broad-shouldered, sweaty, gruff construction workers, Elizabeth's steps faltered and she lingered a little closer to Jason's side. Yeah, and she had _insisted_ on wearing this dress, too – it made her stand out like a bull in a china shop in the presence of these He-Men.

But the young woman needn't have been worried or self-conscious; the men respected Jason and were well-aware of how he wanted those in his company to be treated and for the moment that meant the petite brunette at his side.

And the fact that they had assumed a while ago that she was his wife certainly didn't hurt matters any.

A white-haired man she would later know to be Francis Corelli was the first to spot the pair as they walked over. His pale gray eyes lifted from the sandwich he was polishing off and connected instantly with hers. Elizabeth's brows furrowed as the man quickly gulped down the last bite and nudged his friends, all of whom looked up in their direction as if they were witnessing the second coming of Christ. And the young woman didn't know what to make of it when they all quickly snuffed out their cigarettes and put on their shirts.

Jason barely seemed to notice and if he did, he didn't linger on it. He was clearly in search of a man that wasn't there – the foreman, Max, that she had heard about, perhaps – and languidly walked up to the large group. "Guys."

"Jason," came a chorus of greetings. Elizabeth lingered close to his side, directing a warm but slightly self-conscious smile at the men, who shuffled their feet.

"This is Elizabeth," he finally announced, giving up on finding his foreman.

The tension seemed to dissipate a little and the men smiled back at the woman, smirking a little at the way her fingers were so affectionately twined with those of their boss; the two really did make quite a cute couple.

"Has anyone seen Max?" Jason wondered, completely oblivious. "He specifically told me he'd be here-"

"He just stepped inside for a minute, Jason," Francis assured him as he turned to the building. "Hey, Max! Jason and Elizabeth are here!"

Though it struck her as odd that the strange man would use her name in such a familiar way, Elizabeth brushed it off. She was silly to feel awkward in this situation; the men seemed like a nice enough group and didn't treat her as if she were in any way out of place.

Jason's head turned at the sound of feet on the steps, and he nodded at the men as he left them, not noticing the way they tipped their head politely at Elizabeth.

Max Giambetti was the first to come out of the house as Elizabeth and Jason made their way around to the porch, and the brunette liked him instantly. He had this easy-going, jovial air about him, and the grin he seemed to always wear immediately put her at ease.

He held a clipboard in his hands and was thumbing through some documents on his way down the steps, but dropped it as soon as he saw his guests. "Morgan! There you are! I was wondering if you stood me up."

Jason just grinned and shook the man's hand, keeping his left one linked with Elizabeth's. "Hey, Max. I'll bet Kris will be happy that this place is wrapping up – you can actually go home and rest."

The contractor laughed at that. "Yeah, but she wants a new addition put in on the house, so…we'll see how much rest I get."

Elizabeth chuckled at that, drawing Max's black eyes to her slender form. The foreman smiled and instantly extended his hand, grasping hers firmly and giving it a good pump. "Mrs. Morgan, it's so good to finally meet you. I bet you can't wait to see the end result of Jason's work here. And don't worry – because we won't keep you waiting. Time to show the lady of the house around; Follow me, please."

Both Jason and Elizabeth stood rooted to the ground as the foreman trotted up the steps, swinging his clipboard in his hand. The tall mechanic glared at his friend's back, grinding his teeth. The idiot thought they were married. Next to him, a flushed Elizabeth was having similar thoughts. _That_ explained why the men seemed to stand at attention when she came by.

The thought was oddly empowering in the way it amused her, and she couldn't help the cheeky little grin that made her lips curl. Jason chose that moment to glance warily down at her, a little fearful of her reaction, and Elizabeth's eyes glittered as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the steps after Max.

After all, the lady of the house couldn't be kept waiting.

* * *

"That's about all there is," the foreman sighed with satisfaction as he slowly turned on one heel, glancing up at the ceiling. "We've covered pretty much everything except this wing over here. Now this," he smacked his palm against the threshold of one of the smaller rooms, "could be used as an office. That's what you said, right, Jason?"

The man nodded tensely and absently, glancing down at his 'wife' who seemed to be having way too much fun at his expense. As Max had shown them around the garage, she had made sure to coo over every little thing, and to inform him about every two minutes that they were just going to _have_ to put a potted plant in the corner, or a little bench in the hallway, and a nice mirror in the foyer. And if on some level he didn't find it absolutely endearing, he would have been pretty irritated by now.

Her small fist punched his side, her way of telling him that she knew she was taking it over the top and would cease and desist for his sake. Jason couldn't help but chuckle as he looped his arm over her shoulder, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Max was already pointing out another spare room. "This one is probably the smallest in the house – it might make a good sewing room. My wife's into sewing – are you, Elizabeth?"

She had long since told him to call her by her first name – Mrs. Morgan was just too formal, after all – and Elizabeth was pleased that he actually did as she requested. "Not really; I'm more into painting."

"Well, it would make a great studio, then," Max suggested amicably as he leaned against the doorjamb. "Since it's in the corner, you can catch the full effect of the sunrise in here, but still be able to get some of the sunset as well. You painters – always about the lighting."

The brunette smiled back at him, fighting the urge to laugh. "Oh, yeah – definitely all about the lighting. And it _would_ make a good studio, don't you think, dear?"

At least she had stopped calling him Pookie. "Yeah, sure." As soon as Max's back was turned, he shot her a scolding glare, but the young woman just stuck her tongue out at him. Jason pursed his lips into a thin line but his eyes belied his amusement and Elizabeth rolled her eyes with a relenting sigh, promising once more to be good.

"That about does it," Max repeated, tapping his free hand on the clipboard he still held. "Oh, wait – I forgot to show you the last one."

Elizabeth looked up at Jason curiously, but the tall mechanic only shrugged indifferently in reply. Max was already ushering them down the hallway, and when he pushed open the last door, the brunette gasped audibly.

It was a simple room, like all the others, but the brilliant explosion of the setting sun painted the room in a soft pink and dazzling orange palette. The windows were open and a soft, clean breeze passed freely through the room. There was a ceiling fan that turned on with the flip of a switch, and Elizabeth immediately noticed a beautiful bay window complete with a wooden window seat.

"Wow," she breathed, letting go of Jason's hand for the first time and stepping into the center of the room. "It's beautiful."

Max slid a pleased glance Jason's way, but the young man wouldn't quite meet his gaze as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled into the room. This was the one he had actually planned to make his office – the one that Max described as being such would most likely be his weight room. But the foreman had forgotten, although it was no big deal.

Elizabeth was standing by a window, closing her eyes as the breeze swept into the vibrant room. "I love this one."

The foreman was grinning proudly. "Yup, catches the sunset each night, and it's right next to your studio." He said it with such familiarity that Elizabeth couldn't bear the thought of telling him that she wasn't actually going to be moving in any time soon. "We've got one like this at our place, too. Right when I started drawing up our plans, Kris told me she wanted a simple room at the end of the hallway – right next to the master bedroom – that caught the sunset. We made it our nursery."

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the suggestive, slightly teasing note in the gregarious foreman's voice and whipped around to see that Jason was also staring him with what seemed to be a look of abject horror on his face. But Max paid him no mind and instead looked around the room, still smiling broadly and proudly as he surveyed his work.

"Yup, worked out wonderfully," he declared. "It's always dark in the morning, so the baby isn't disturbed and we don't have to worry about turning down the blinds at night or drawing the curtains. And in the summer, it gets excellent cross-ventilation there, with the windows on the two walls instead of one, so it stays nice and cool. And at night, we can just leave the windows bare and let the moonlight stream in. Caity loves the moon." He nodded proudly once more and would have continued, but he could hear one of his men calling out for him. Shooting Elizabeth a bold wink as he clapped Jason on the back, Max moved for the door. "Yup, this place would make a great nursery."

His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway as Jason and Elizabeth just stared at each other, both unable to make the first move. The brunette stood at the far end, by the window, and had begun to nervously wring her hands together as Jason's gaze all but devoured her. The temperature had spiked the second Max said the word 'nursery', and her mind raced to come up with something neutral and altogether unthreatening to say.

Jason's nostrils flared as Elizabeth licked her lips, her sapphire eyes darting around the room. "I, uh…I can't believe they thought we were married."

She was desperately searching for a way out and he gave it to her – for the time being. A boyish grin made his lips curl as he loped closer, his gaze moving from her slender form to the vivid sky. "Well, you calling me 'Pookie' didn't help."

Elizabeth giggled wickedly at that, leaning her hip against the wall as Jason slid down onto the bare window seat. The first thought that occurred to her just then was to suggest that he put a couple bright pillows there to liven it up, but she quickly shook it away. "Oh, relax – you are so uptight."

"Did you have fun with that?" he drawled, quirking a brow humorlessly at her though his unearthly blue eyes continued to twinkle. "You looked like you were ready to get out some photos of our wedding day and pull out the slideshow of us on our honeymoon."

She grinned smugly down at him. "You should have seen your face, Morgan – I've never seen it that red. You're really cute when you blush."

"I don't blush," he sputtered vehemently, a little flustered with the laughter gleaming in her sapphire orbs. "I have _never_ blushed."

"Oh, you were blushing down there, my friend," she snickered. "And when Max said 'nursery' – man, I thought for sure your head would explode."

He glared sullenly at her and then at the room. "Nursery. What was that idiot thinking?"

"Hey, now," Elizabeth stopped him, putting up her hand. "He's not that far off track; I could actually see this being a nursery."

Jason was staring at her as if she had lost her mind. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The brunette shrugged. "I'm just saying that it seems like the right size, the right location, everything. Look, you probably don't know her, but there was this woman named Tammy that used to manage Kelly's a while back, until she and her husband Mike had their first child. She was really sweet to me, and I offered to help her decorate the nursery. I told her that me and the girls would help her pick furniture and that I could paint any theme she wanted, if she decided that she hated the idea of wallpaper."

He listened silently and slid over a little on the window seat, offering her a spot, but Elizabeth remained standing. Casually, she pushed herself away from the wall and wandered back into the center of the room.

"That was the most incredibly fun thing I've ever done," the brunette informed him. "The room was basically Mike's storage room – he had all these boxes filled with files and papers, and we got him to move that up to the attic so we'd have room to play around. It was like looking at a blank canvas."

Her eyes were glowing as she spun around once, taking in the room, and Jason could see the artist in her already coming up with a thousand different ways to decorate the barren room. The fertility of her imagination never ceased to amaze him; creativity flowed through her veins, and she was just like him in the sense that she looked at one thing and saw something completely different.

"She gave me free reign with the room after telling me a little bit about what she had in mind. I got to play around with it – it was all mine. First, I painted the room this really pale shade of pink – like this one, here." Her soft fingers caressed a spot on the wall where the sun's rays hit, and Jason followed their movement as if in a trance. "It was going to be a girl, April Grace, and I wanted a really soft look to it. I had the trim painted white, and the windows, and I picked out a matching white dresser, changing table, and crib."

She was motioning to where the different pieces of furniture had sat in the room she designed, and Jason couldn't speak a word.

"Then, since Tammy really like rabbits, I stenciled bunnies all over the walls. Then I drew clouds on the ceiling, and got this nice stars-and-moon mobile for the crib. Right above the trim, I painted grass in a really soft green that offset the pink very well, and I drew so that it looked like the bunnies were jumping over little fences at odd parts in the room. You know – like counting sheep when you want to get to sleep." She was smiling fondly at the memory and Jason's throat constricted at the way her eyes glowed.

"Tammy was so happy. You should have seen her. She brought in all the stuffed animals she and Mike had gotten for the baby, and all the clothes – everything had bunnies on it, believe it or not – and we just barely made it before April was born. It was the most incredible thing I've ever done – just the idea that my art actually became part of someone's home was so amazing, you know? I want to be able to do that again sometime."

Her dress swayed around her nimble frame in the soft breeze, and lacy tendrils of her hair fluttered in the air, making her look like a fairy. Her words, soft and intimate, rolled through his head and Jason swallowed, his fingers gripping the edge of the window seat.

"Do you- Do you want kids of your own?"

If she was surprised that he had asked that question, she didn't show it. In fact, unbeknownst to him, her silent reverie had led her to that point exactly. "Someday," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear as she gazed around the room. "I hope. That is, if I don't chicken out of it first."

Her light laughter troubled him and Jason frowned up at her. "Why would you chicken out of it?"

She shrugged helplessly. "You know how my parents are – they've been that way their whole life. Steven and Sarah were always the perfect ones, the ones they had planned. One boy, one girl, both blonde and doctors. And then I came along – I was unplanned, a problem from the start. I know they love me in their own way, but they never showed it the way I guess I wanted them to. And part of me has always wondered, if I become a mother one day…"

"If you'd turn out like them," he finished without a moment's hesitation.

Her solemn eyes, widening a little, landed squarely on him. "Yeah."

Jason dipped his head at her breathless reply, sensing the silent question. "I'm the same way. My father had an affair with my mother and left her for the woman he was planning to marry. He was never a part of my life, even though he did send me Christmas and birthday cards every now and then. I threw them all away without reading them."

Her eyes softened as she watched him speak, her fingers trailing lightly over her collarbone to fiddle with her necklace.

"When my mother died, I was pretty much on my own. I mean, I had my Aunt Bobbie, my mom's sister, but I didn't really want to go to her. I wanted to do everything myself, to prove to myself and to everyone else that I could make it without anyone's help or…"

"Love," she supplied quietly. "Yeah, I know how that goes."

"And I did," he responded evenly. "I never needed anyone in that way – I've never _loved_ anyone that way." The words 'until now', exposing his greatest vulnerability, were on the tip of his tongue but stalled there, and Jason couldn't force them out. "And like you, part of me has always wondered if I'll end up just like my father – emotionally detached from my own children in every way that matters."

Her palms were clammy and she rubbed them together as the last rays of the fading sun reached into the dim room. Elizabeth moved soundlessly over the hardwood floor until she was at his side, and then slowly lowered herself onto the window seat.

"You know what I think?"

He was staring at a point on the wall. "What?"

A lop-sided smile spread across her lips and she tilted her head at him. "I think, a few years down the line, that this place _is_ going to be a nursery no matter how much you protest."

Jason laughed at that, relieved to be momentarily freed from the oppressive gravity of their conversation. But Elizabeth was serious.

"You're a good person, Jason," she got out quietly, setting her elbows on her knees and propping her chin in her hands. "And I don't think you have it in you to be emotionally detached from the people that matter to you."

The mechanic cleared his throat gruffly, a little embarrassed at the fact that Elizabeth had to console him and more than ready to change the subject. "So…what do you want to do to this room?"

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "Who, me? Oh, I don't want to-"

He cut her off with a quick grin. "You knew what you wanted to do to this room since the minute you stepped in here, Webber," he chided. "I can always tell when you lie, remember?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, a sheepish grin now curling her lips. "Fine. You really want to hear it?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"Well…" A faint blush tinged her cheeks as she looked around the room. "I'm seeing ships."

"Ships."

She nodded. "Mm-hmm. The trim is going to be mottled white, and the walls are going to be varying shades of blue. There'll be an ocean, with all these colorful little sailboats going around the room. The top part will be lighter, because it's the sky, and the ceiling will be the same color. And of course, I'll have to draw big puffy clouds. Ooh – maybe a lighthouse in that corner. And as for the bottom part, under the trim to the floor, it'll be darker blue, and there can be fishes. I'm seeing lots of clown fishes – a really vibrant red-orange color. Maybe one shark, but it has to look friendly. And the furniture will be white – I've always preferred white furniture for nurseries – and I think it'd be cool to stencil in some sailboats on the dresser, some fish on the changing table, you know, that sort of thing."

The brunette finally finished and looked at him expectantly. "What do you think? I mean, I know you're not that into aesthetics, but…"

Holy hell, she hadn't realized how close he was. She could practically smell the faint remnants of his aftershave.

Jason's eyes gazed directly back into hers. "I think…it'd be nice. If _you_ did it."

The compliment made her heart swell, mostly because she knew that Jason didn't just throw his words around like so much confetti. "Yeah?"

He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, as his piercing eyes drifted down to her bottom lip, the one she was currently nibbling on. "Yeah." Jason's breath rustled past his lips as he shifted slightly, and the heat emanating from his body seeped into Elizabeth's. "What if it's a girl?"

Her head was swimming. None of this made sense; she had no idea how they had gotten here. But she couldn't stop the reply that instantly sprang to her lips. "An enchanted meadow with three fairy godmothers, a bunch of woodland creatures, and a beautiful castle in the distance."

Jason's lips curled into a slow, sexy smirk at her quick answer that lacked any hesitation, and she held her breath as he inched closer. "Just as good."

His breath brushed over her lips, mingling with hers, and Elizabeth's heart jumped to her throat. Jason was only a scant distance away, his eyes focused on her plush lips, and it was as if every single muscle in her body had frozen. Her raven lashes fluttered as her lower lip trembled, and Elizabeth let out a soft, shuddery sigh as Jason's mouth met hers in a feather-light caress so tender that it stole her breath away.

The back-firing of the truck directly beneath their window shot her back into reality, and Elizabeth pulled away from Jason so quickly that for a moment the older man didn't even realize what had happened. His confused, stormy eyes met her wide, fearful ones and he was about to reach for her when Max appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, folks," he called out jovially, not picking up on the tension that flooded the room. "Jason, I just wanted to let you know that we're clearing everything out of here, and that the furniture is coming around eight tomorrow morning. You two have a good night."

With that, he turned and walked down the empty hallway, whistling to himself, leaving Jason and Elizabeth alone with their hammering hearts and oppressive silence.

The brunette was the first to move, and she stood up on shaky legs and tried to smooth the imaginary wrinkles from her dress. She wouldn't quite look Jason in the eye as she moved for the door, still wringing her hands together. "I, uh, I think we should get going."

Her shoes clicked down the hallway that Max had just disappeared down, and Jason was left alone in the empty, stark white room.

* * *

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her middle and kept up her brisk pace as she half-walked, half-trotted over the sidewalk. It was late and the night was cooler than most, and instead of curling up in her room with a good book and her _Guys and Dolls_ album, she was scurrying down the fricking road to the last place in the world she thought she'd go tonight.

Jason had taken her back to Kelly's and they hadn't spoken a word since. She didn't even know what to say. Nothing in her head made sense anymore; it was all a jumble of crazy, mixed-up thoughts, none of them even remotely coherent.

And it was all her fault.

She had no idea how one thing had led to another back at the garage. She wasn't supposed to say those things; they weren't supposed to do those things. It was too surreal, too…terrifying.

She wasn't supposed to let it get this far.

Hell, she wasn't supposed to feel this way.

But the fact remained that she did. And there was absolutely no use in denying it anymore. She couldn't stomach the lies she told herself anymore, but she didn't know how in the world she was supposed to face this.

And in her utter lapse of control and self-possession, she was seeking out the one person that wouldn't be afraid to knock her down and kick some sense into her.

* * *

Johnny O'Brien frowned at his wife as she hunkered up on the corner of the couch, pouting at the rerun of _I Dream Of Jeannie_ currently being shown on TV Land. "You're being childish."

"I don't care," she snipped, tugging at the hem of the dark green shirt of his she had borrowed to wear with her pajama shorts.

Her husband crossed his arms over his chest. "You two have never been mad at each other this long."

"First time for everything," she replied haughtily without even looking at him.

With a scowl, Johnny marched over to the end table and picked up the cordless phone, returning only to wave it in front of his wife's face as she tried to watch television. "Call her."

"No."

"_Call her."_

"No!"

"Em-"

"Don't you start with me, Johnny O'Brien."

"Look," he sighed, sinking down on the couch next to her. "I know you two. You're almost sisters, and you have been since long before you and I even met. You and Elizabeth need each other, and I don't like to see you two fighting." He scratched the beginnings of his dark beard when she refused to reply. "Plus, since you don't have her to talk to anymore, you talk to _me_, and frankly, I can't deal with that."

That got a smirk out of her before she reached for a pillow and beaned him in the face. Johnny ducked and managed to click off the TV and capture his wife in his arms. "Call. Her."

"No," Emily replied firmly. "She told me to butt out of her life, and that's what I'm doing. If she's going to be so dense that she can't even see that Jason loves her – and that she loves him – then…forget her."

"You don't really want that for her," Johnny remarked knowingly. "You want her to be happy, Em. Give it a shot – call her."

"She said I was playing mind games on her," the redhead scowled, wrapping her arms around her bare knees. "Well, she can just go soak her head because from now on I'm playing my mind games on someone else."

Johnny just looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head. "You know, you have way too much time on your hands. I should just…I don't know…get you pregnant or something."

That was enough to get a reaction out of his spirited wife, and the newspaper editor couldn't help the laughter that escaped him as the petite redhead tackled him to the floor.

"What did you say!"

He rolled with her over the pale tan carpeting, letting her pin him to the ground so that she could sit on his chest and pretend to try to choke him. "You heard me," he sputtered, unable to suppress a grin as she fisted her hands in the fabric of his shirt and jerked his head off the floor. "At least then you'd be putting your energies to good use."

"Chauvinistic son of a- Hey!" She squealed when his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and wrestled her to the floor, and Emily's fists beat against his broad chest. "Leggo! Jerk! I'm telling Mama O'Brien – she likes me better, anyway!"

"Go ahead, tell her," Johnny sneered playfully, reaching down to capture his wife's wrists in his large hands. "She's always asking you when you're going to give her a grandchild, anyway!"

Emily cussed when he managed to pin her wrists to the floor above her head, and Johnny smiled victoriously as he leaned down to brush his lips sweetly against hers. She was laughing underneath him but trying desperately hard to hide it, and as soon as he loosened his hold on her wrists she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

A knock at the door barely registered the first two times it sounded, but when the knocking turned to flat-out pounding, Johnny pulled back with a groan. Emily was scowling as well, and reached down to pull her shirt into place as soon as her husband rose off of her. "I'll get it," she muttered, rolling to her hands and knees in order to stand up and sprint to the foyer. "And it better be fucking good because otherwise-"

The redhead wrenched the door open furiously only to blink in surprise when the watery eyes of her best friend stared back at her. Her mouth dropped open and she could only stand there, gaping at Elizabeth as the brunette ran a trembling hand through her hair.

"I think you're right," she got out in a low, tearful voice that sounded so completely helpless that Emily just wanted to hug her. "I'm in love with him."


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Note: **It's hard to get back into writing when you've been gone for a while. :( Ai, ai, ai, no me gusta. Hope this chapter meets with everyone's expectations and/or approval. It doesn't have to be both; it can be one or the other. :b And I know this ends in a sickeningly sweet way, and I hate that, but just bear with me til the next chapter.

For birthday girls Kris and Tracy, and for my Amanda.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

A man's home was his castle and at the moment, Johnny O'Brien felt like a lowly peasant come to ask a great boon of the king. He tossed his keys from one hand to the other – a nervous habit of his – before depositing them in his pocket and staring up at the newly built structure that stood at the end of the driveway.

Christ. Even Jason Morgan's _house_ was intimidating.

Gravel crunched under his unpolished dress shoes as the newspaper editor took a reluctant step away from his Jeep. He should just get back in to the vehicle and drive home already; he had no reason to be here anyway. After all, he and Jason weren't friends and the only time he talked to the man was while they quickly snagged a cup of coffee at Kelly's – and even then, it was only a word or two of indifferent greeting. Yep, if he were a smarter man, he'd get his butt home to his wife and forget about this ridiculous mission he had imposed on himself out of some warped sense of nobility.

But he knew he couldn't do that. If he were honest with himself, Johnny could admit that he had every reason to be standing outside Jason Morgan's new home, and that there was a lot riding on his success in the endeavor.

Like most things in his life for the past few years, this all boiled down to one petite, loud-mouthed little woman. However, this time, that woman wasn't his wife but her best friend. Since he had first laid eyes on Emily Bowen, he had quickly realized that she and Elizabeth were a joint package. If he wanted Emily, he'd have to get used to Elizabeth as well. But he never had a single complaint about that little fact of life; Elizabeth Webber was intelligent, spunky, fun, and one of the kindest and most compassionate young women he had ever met. She had moved to Port Charles a couple years prior to that, and she and Emily had instantly clicked and were more like sisters than friends. And while it used to irk him at first that Elizabeth knew every detail of his relationship with Emily, he quickly got used to it.

After all, there was very little that Emily and Elizabeth didn't tell each other, if anything. And Elizabeth was always the one to talk some sense into Emily when she'd throw her tantrums, and she was always the one to give him advice when he did something to tick his girlfriend off. Not only was Elizabeth a very important part of Emily's life, but she had soon become an important part of his as well.

And now the girl was upset and for the first time in a long time, Emily had no idea what to do to help. She knew it was something that Elizabeth would have to deal with herself, she had told him, but she had also confessed to how helpless she felt that she couldn't fix the situation.

It had been almost two days since Emily's best friend had shown up on their doorstep in tears, and he couldn't take it anymore. This wasn't the Elizabeth he knew – she was miserable and reticent and lost – and if he could help rectify this mess in any way, he'd do it. It would be messy, but then again, he dealt with murders, explosions, and corruption in city hall every single day of the week – he could certainly handle this.

It would be like ripping off a band-aid, Johnny told himself as he strode resolutely up the driveway to the front porch. He'd say what he had to say, quick and without any fuss, and the sooner he did that the sooner he could get home. Things would work out for the best this way; secrets and cover-ups only produced more misery in the long run. He hated seeing everyone – his wife, his close friend, and even the surly mechanic that he didn't altogether dislike and even respected in a strange way – so upset. It was going to have to end.

It was a warm summer night and Jason had left the front door wide open to invite in the misty breeze. Taking a deep breath, Johnny jabbed the ringer and listened as the bell resonated through the house. He waited a moment but when there was no answer, he rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

Still, there was no answer. Johnny had just raised his hand to knock once more when Jason's sandy spikes appeared from around a corner and the two men stood, simply staring at each other. The mechanic looked surprised to see him, not that Johnny could blame him, but welcomed the other man into his domain with a curt nod of his head.

Letting out a strangled sigh, Johnny grasped the handle and pulled the door open, stepping into the house. It was a simple establishment. The first thing he noticed was how plain and simple it looked – certainly not like his own house. Emily had covered every single wall with photographs and paintings, some of them crafted by Elizabeth's masterful hand, and had purchased decorative furnishings, the like of which could probably be found in the palace of the Sultan of Brunei. If there was one thing that woman loved, it was to waste his money on soft, brightly colored things for people to sit on.

But Jason's house was almost completely bare. Perhaps it was because it had only been completed two days ago, but he had a feeling that Jason was the kind of guy that didn't need a lot of plush, soft, expensive trappings around to turn a house into a home. His wife would do well to take a cue from the man.

Steeling his jaw and his resolve, Johnny followed Jason into the room he had come from. The dining room and family room were adjoined, forming one incredibly large, sprawling room, which Jason had 'decorated' the area with a large brown leather couch, a recliner, a thin layer of dust on the bare mantle over the fireplace, and a large pool table in lieu of a dining table. The corner of his mouth quirked up as Johnny's green eyes darted around the room. Hey, to each his own.

"Jason."

The mechanic nodded tersely again and took a quick pull from his beer bottle. The editor's appearance had surprised him, but he was at least happy that it was the _Mister_ O'Brien instead of the Missus. Thank goodness for small miracles. "John. What are you doing here?"

Habit had Johnny clasping his hands and rubbing his clammy palms together as if he were just about to head up the weekly staff meeting where he divvied up stories and sent everyone out on assignment. "I'm not going to pretty this up in any way, Morgan. There's something you need to know."

* * *

They said that when Michelangelo was commissioned to paint the Sistine chapel, he worked days on end without getting any sleep. The great Raphael, when working on his masterpiece _The School of Athens_, was known to indulge in certain stimulants to keep himself alert. Marie Cassat, her own personal idol, would drink copious amounts of tea in order to stay awake and paint her Impressionist works of art.

And for the first time in her entire life, Elizabeth Webber could relate to the greats of centuries past.

After her near meltdown outside Emily's house almost two days ago, she had retreated to her studio and the security it afforded. She had been all mixed-up and confused, and instead of huddling under the covers until sleep claimed her, she found that she could do nothing else save paint.

And so she painted.

She didn't have any pending assignments; after all, she had completed her senior portfolio before graduation and was an independent artist now. She wasn't working with deadlines or a professor's whim and fancy this time. And she found it suited her better, because in the past forty-eight hours, she had created a work of art. Her first _real_ work of art.

Her dichotomy of dancers, as she referred to her paintings of the dancing couple, had always irked her since its actualization. Her initial goal had been to capture the perfect passion that her imagined dancing couple exuded in her mind. The first one had been too soft and fuzzy; the second too angular and harsh. But time had simply run out, so she had submitted the two as they were to her professor, bull-shitting some half-baked proposal about how she wanted to show conflicting aspects of how dance translated into art.

Her professor had bought it, as she knew he would, and had given her exemplary marks for her work. But still, the paintings lingered in the recesses of her consciousness, flaunting themselves as admissions of her failure to be true to her vision.

It seemed as of late that she had all but forgotten _how_ to be true to herself.

Emily had been a big help in that respect. She had been right to trust her best friend to be the one to kick some sense into her. She had been scared and scared when she showed up on the O'Brien porch; when she left, she was still confused. But she wasn't scared any more, and Emily played a big role in that.

She was in love with Jason Morgan.

And it wasn't scary anymore.

An emotional rollercoaster, yes. She had a lot to process after she came home that night, and instead of analyzing everything until it chewed her up inside, she had picked up her brush and poured her emotions out through a handful of brightly colored paints.

And that was when she had created it – her masterpiece. Her fricking _David_. Minus the nakedness, of course.

It was finally done, and she was in love with it. It was the vision that had come to her, that had inspired her so many months ago when she was contemplating her final senior project, the last bit of work she had to put into her portfolio to really showcase her honest-to-goodness talent.

Two dancers, ensconced in each other's arms, their bodies twined together in a gesture of passion and support, clinging to each other amidst a whirl of deep reds and fiery yellows. It was complete; it was true.

A soft smile curled her lips as she brushed her fingertips over the edge of the rough canvas.

It was Jason's.

* * *

When she pulled up to the house, only the lower level lights were on, twinkling like little golden beacons to assure the lonely voyager safe passage. She bit her lip, parking in one smooth motion and grabbing her painting before she slid out of the car. The night was warm and balmy with a cool, comforting breeze that made the wispy material of her summer dress flutter beautifully.

Stars shimmered from their lofty position up in the heavens as Elizabeth climbed the front steps. She was faint and jittery and excited all at the same time, and she continuously shifted her grip on the precious canvas frame.

The front door to Jason's humble abode was wide open, and Elizabeth made sure to ring the buzzer in fair warning before she pulled open the screen door and let herself in. The last time she had been here, Jason had kissed her and she had bolted like a scared rabbit. This time, there would be none of that. No running away, no excuses, no bailing.

No bailing.

Pale golden light fell into the dim foyer and Elizabeth kicked off her sandals before venturing further into the house. Jason had managed to decorate it in the two days since Max and the gang had packed up, and the place really suited him. She could see a comfortable looking couch, a soft recliner that already showed signs of use, and a dark, sturdy coffee table boasting a scattered pile of mail.

She stepped further into the room and saw the pool table that graced the dining room, and that was when her nervous blue eyes fell on the tall, brooding man leaning against it. The lamplight fell against his broad back, cloaking his face in shadows, but she could make out his piercing cerulean eyes even in the dim light.

A muscle in Jason's jaw ticked as he watched her shift her weight from one bare foot to the other. To say that he was shocked to see her was an understatement, and for the first time in a long time, he was less than thrilled to see her. Twenty minutes had passed since Johnny had left and for those entire twenty minutes, he had stood completely numb by the pool table, unmoving. His beer warmed to room temperature, ignored on the pool table, as he had tried furiously to comprehend the mess that Johnny had just dumped on his lap.

Elizabeth had used him. She had used him from the beginning and he had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

And now she was here.

He didn't move as she came closer, her bare feet not making a sound over the clean hardwood. He just stood, stoic and silent, as she inched toward him with that tremulous, hesitant smile on her lips.

Elizabeth was growing increasingly uncomfortable under his intense but icy blue eyes, but then again, she should have expected this after what happened two days ago. He had kissed her and she had bolted and hidden from him. She had some serious bridge building to do before the night was over, that was for sure.

"Hi." He barely moved at the sound of her voice, the first tentative greeting and olive branch. Swallowing, Elizabeth forced a bright smile to her face. "I, uh, bet you didn't expect to see me this late." Still, no response. "I thought at first that it might be rude to show up, but I knew you'd be up and this couldn't wait." He barely blinked, squandering her hopes for acknowledgment. "I-I like what you've done with the place. It's very _you_. The pool table, the couch – somehow, I know those didn't come from Ikea."

Nothing.

Her palms began to itch and she shifted her grip on the canvas, which she held close to her body. His steel blue eyes were on her as she fidgeted nervously, then worked up the nerve to turn the canvas frame around.

"This is for you." When he made no move to take it, she extended her arms and practically deposited it in his. Her sapphire eyes probed his features for any barely perceptible reply as Jason slowly turned the frame around in his hands and stared down at it, his fingers gripping the edges firmly.

After a deafening silence, he looked up at her and finally blinked. "What is it?"

Elizabeth was so relieved to hear his voice for the first time that she readied her enthusiastic reply instantly, almost missing the next words out of his mouth.

"-Another one of your games?"

That made her stop. Blinking, she stared up at him, noting his tense features and flexed jaw. "I…_what_?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked and Jason just shook his head once before turning to set the painting on the pool table. He turned his back on it swiftly, crossing his arms over his solid chest. "Johnny was just here."

The gears were beginning to turn in her head and Elizabeth could slowly feel the world falling out from under her. "O-Oh."

He steeled himself against the timidity in those expressive sapphire orbs and clenched jaw. "Quiet guy – except when he has something to say. And trust me, he had a _lot_ to say."

Her face was flaming, burning hot all of a sudden, and a tremble ran through her fingers as she raised her hands to her cheeks. "Jason-"

"You used me." Each word was terse and clipped, laced with bitterness as Jason all but spit them out at her. "You used me from the very beginning."

"No, I-"

His intense eyes flashed dangerously and Jason had to grip the edge of the pool table with his large hands. "And I had to find out from someone like _John O'Brien_."

This was _not_ happening. She had seen him angry before, and had even felt it when his anger was directed at her, but this was completely different. Not only was he angry, but Jason was bitter and hurt and it was all her fault. "Jason, you have to believe me, I didn't mean for this to-"

"Believe you?" He was quirking one sandy brow at her and making her feel all of two inches tall. "After hearing all this, you want me to _believe _you?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this!" she burst out, not even bothering to hide the tears in her voice. No, none of it was supposed to happen like this. She wasn't supposed to hurt him, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with him to begin with.

"Then how _was_ it supposed to happen?" he flung back, gritting his teeth together. "You got angry that I blew you off in the kitchen-"

Her cheeks flamed again at the reference to that first morning, but Elizabeth could do nothing as Jason raged on.

"You made me think you wanted to be my friend-"

"I _do_ wa– Jason, I _am_ your friend-"

"You practically tricked me into moving into Kelly's, you led a line of guys around under my nose, you let me tell you things I've never told _anyone_ before, and you-" He looked away for a moment, his grip on the pool table so tight that his knuckles were turning white from a lack of circulation. "You let me kiss you and then you walked away."

A fresh wave of tears assaulted her as Elizabeth called herself every wretched name in the book. His voice was low and rough, but there was no mistaking the hurt she heard in it. Sniffling, she inched closer and hung her head.

"I'm sorry."

Those two words sounded so pitiful and sorely lacking in meaning that she almost wished she hadn't said them. What did her regret matter in the face of what Jason was feeling? He had every reason to think that she was the absolute worst person in the world.

He rolled her shoulders and turned his head, not interested in her _sorry_. It was so hard for him to be mad at Elizabeth, which was why the ferocity of his anger now scared him. The feelings he had for her were still so strong, but vitiated now to the opposite extreme. It scared and confused him because he had never felt this way about anyone before; he had never been so in love with one person only to have it all turn out to be meaningless, and the sudden one-eighty had him lost and disoriented.

Elizabeth was watching him through wet lashes, noting how the vein in his forehead throbbed and the muscle in his jaw ticked. Clearing her throat softly, she averted her gaze and continued to nervously wring her fingers. "I-What I did, I know it was wrong and I have no excuse. I have no excuse for hurting you, Jason, especially when you've never purposely hurt me."

He flexed his jaw and shifted against the pool table but did not move away, and she was thankful at least for that.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." The words sounded hollow even to her own ears. "It wasn't supposed to go this far. Things just snowballed out of control and I got scared and you were caught in the middle and-"

"All for some game." His strained, lethal voice cut through her remorseful ramblings. "Just a meaningless game of revenge."

Her heart broke in two at the self-loathing in his voice, as if he were to blame for getting sucked into this mess. Tucking her hair behind her ear in a jerky motion, Elizabeth tried vainly to get Jason to look at her. "Jason, please, you have to listen to me for a minute-"

The older man let out a breath of air and his shoulders sagged. He put up his hands and shook his head, resigned. "I don't _want_ to listen."

Sucking in a deep breath, Elizabeth took a brave step forward and gripped his forearms with her small hands, holding him in place. Jason tensed at the gesture and made no move to return it, simply standing still and rigid with his fingers curled away from her arms. "I know you don't want to listen. You have no reason to listen. But if you give me one shot to explain, I promise, you won't have to listen to me again if you don't want to."

He said nothing, just stared blankly down at her, and Elizabeth knew this was her one chance to put everything out there. This was not the time to protect her heart or worry about getting hurt; she lost the right to do that the minute she put Jason in this position of feeling so much pain because of her.

She began slowly, in a low voice that still resonated in the quiet house. "Yes, I was…hurt from the way you dismissed me that morning at Kelly's. Mainly because…I really liked you before that and thought…maybe that it was what I wanted. And when you backed away like that, I was pretty angry."

His eyes were still hard and unreadable, so she quickly continued.

"I decided that it would…serve you right, I guess, if you got to know me better. Like, if I showed you what you were missing." She could barely suppress the urge to cringe at the utter idiocy of her words. Good Lord, she sounded like a preschooler. Jason noticed how her inflection changed, how her voice grew tinier with each mortifying word, but quickly regained his stony façade before she could notice.

Elizabeth wasn't even mindful of the fact that her hands were still gripping his meaty arms; she was focused solely on putting her entire case out there and then asking for his forgiveness. "But…then I got to know you. Big mistake," she added under her breath, shaking her head and missing the flicker of surprise that ran through Jason's intense eyes. "You were even greater than I thought. And every time we talked or ate lunch together or worked a shift together, I found myself liking you more and more."

Try as he would, he didn't have any reason to doubt the truth to her words. He could always tell when Elizabeth was telling a lie, and something deep within him began to warm at the thought that this wasn't one of those times.

"I never thought we'd become real friends…that you'd become one of my best friends." Her voice had dropped to a rusty whisper and fat tears clung to her lashes as she peered solemnly up at him, begging him with her eyes to accept her words. "And it scared me. Things changed, and it scared me that I liked you so much, that you were so important to me. You were there for me when I didn't make the Albany program; you met my brother at graduation. The most important day of my life, and I got to share it with you. And it scared me that I really, _really_ wanted to."

He could feel himself being pulled in by her wide, dark eyes but Jason still resisted.

"You have every reason to believe that it was meaningless, Jason," she choked out, her fingers tightening around his muscles as if by their own volition. "But it meant something to _me_ – it meant a lot to me. No one's ever taken care of me when I was sick since I was eight; no one's ever looked at me and told me I was perfect; no one's ever made me feel as good as you did. All of that stuff, Jason – it was _very_ meaningful."

He looked down at their arms, twined together, as if he were noticing their position for the first time. Elizabeth sensed him shifting and tightened her hold on him, refusing to let go until he heard all of it.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Jason," she whispered, not bothering to wipe away the tears that coursed slick trails down her porcelain cheeks. "That was the last thing I wanted. I think I knew that eventually, given what was going on, that I _would_ hurt you, and I pretended that if I ignored the problem, it would go away. But it didn't. You got hurt, and I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how _sorry_ I am."

His palms brushed her elbows as Jason's index fingers skimmed a faint path over her smooth skin.

"But I have to try because I messed up and I can't blame this on anyone but me," she continued in a rush, her eyes closed as the words tumbled rapidly from her lips. "You were so g-good to me and I ruined you and it was stupid and childish and unfair because you didn't deserve that, and I don't have any right to expect you to forgive me but I have to ask because I'm sorry and I love you and I can't stand it when you're mad at me!"

Jason's jaw practically fell to the floor as he gaped at the slim wisp of a brunette that stood barefoot and teary-eyed in front of him, doing her best to stifle a sob. So much information had been thrown at him in the past thirty minutes that he was surprised this last revelation didn't send him toppling. "I-What did you say?"

She looked up at him, wide-eyed, as if realizing right at that moment what she had actually said. This wasn't exactly how she had planned to tell him, but there was no backing out now. She had pledged tonight as she made her way to his house that she would tell him everything, and that meant the most important declaration of her life, as well.

"I love you."

Jason blinked at the soft, simple announcement and stared at the brunette who was half in his arms, completely bewildered. An awkward, stunned silence stretched between them and as the second hand ticked audibly, Elizabeth's face became increasingly florid.

Her eyes dropped down to her fingers, which were still curled around his meaty forearms, and her plush lips fell open on an "o" of surprise. She hastily withdrew her arms, instantly missing the warm of Jason's hands, and took a small and wobbly step back. In all of her anxious predictions about tonight, she should have prepared herself for this: the very real possibility that Jason Morgan just didn't love her the way she loved him.

Her cheeks were flaming in stark contrast to her normally pale skin as Elizabeth sniffled with embarrassment and let her gaze dart around to _anything_ but him. "I, uh, I didn't mean to – You don't have to say it back. That's not why I said it. I just…just wanted you to know. And now that you know, I'll just be-"

By this time, Jason had recovered from his near-cardiac arrest and stopped her mortified babbling by gripping her chin in one hand and tilting her face up to look at him. "Why?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself staring into his turbulent blue eyes, stormy with a myriad of emotions she dared not name. "_Why_?"

He nodded once – quickly – repeating, "Why do you love me?"

It was the most ridiculous question she had ever heard, which surprised her because Jason didn't waste time with ridiculous questions. That, of course, could only mean one thing: that he genuinely wanted to know. "I-Do I have to have a reason?" she asked breathlessly, searching for the right words.

Confusion – or skepticism – flickered through his intense eyes as he absently stroked the cute little cleft in her chin. "Don't you?"

Well, this wasn't getting them anywhere. "It's not just _one_ reason." He only blinked back at her and Elizabeth licked her lips, trying to find a suitable way to put all that she was feeling into words. "It's a puzzle, and it's about how it all fits together. It's about what you give me, what you show me, what you make me feel. There's no one reason for it – it's the whole package, everything about you."

This time, the skepticism was clear in the way he looked at her and Elizabeth shook her head to herself with exasperation. This _definitely _wasn't getting them anywhere. Taking one brave step and closing the distance between them, Elizabeth lifted her hands to frame his face and stared deep into his eyes, hoping to openly betray the conviction and depth of her words.

"I'm in love with you, Jason Morgan. And for once, it _is_ as simple as that."

This time, she could clearly feel the relief as it coursed through his body, relaxing his tense muscles. She could also feel the heat of his hand as it bled through her summer dress when Jason brought his palm against the small of her back, holding her in place.

He hesitantly raised his other hand to her face to wipe away her tears, and was encouraged when he cupped her cheek and she leaned in to his touch. His fingertips feathered through her soft chestnut hair as Jason slowly inched closer, relishing her warmth.

She sniffed away the last remnants of her tears and nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes. "Can you forgive me?"

It took him a moment to answer, due only partly to hesitation and more to the fact that he had just rediscovered how easily he could lose himself in those deep sapphire orbs. Swallowing, he slowly nodded his head and watched as her eyes pooled with tears once more.

"Why?"

The question was soft, with a hint of laughter to alleviate the gravity that shrouded the moment. Jason's thumb tickled the underside of her jaw and he was so close that his nose actually bumped into hers as he whispered his answer over her lips.

"Because I love you, too."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Note: **For **CC** and **WannaGetLucky**. Gosh, I'm so glad this story is drawing to a close – twenty-five chapters oughta do the trick.

I will only be posting part of this chapter, because it contains adult content. To read the whole thing, please click on the link to my site, in my profile.

**Chapter Twenty-Three (NC-17)**

"I'm sorry."

Jason nibbled his way along her jaw, pleased when he felt her hands clench the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "You've said that several times now."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond but he was quicker, seizing her lips with his own and taking advantage of her open mouth to slip his tongue in with hers. She let out a low, throaty moan, winding her arms around his neck, as he commenced to plunder her mouth.

He broke for a gasp of air and she quickly utilized the moment. "Yes, but-"

His lips descended on hers again and Jason framed her face with his large hands. It had been so long since he had kissed her, so long since he had been close to her in this way that he didn't think he'd ever get his fill.

"But-"

He silenced her again with his mouth, growling when he felt her tongue slither tentatively into his mouth. She was on her toes in front of him with his large hands now on her tiny waist, anchoring her close to him. Elizabeth's small hands were on his chest, tentatively feeling the muscles of his strong body as they rippled underneath her fingers. Jason was setting her on fire, slowly and steadily, and she rather enjoyed the burning.

Jason felt an abrupt rush of cool air and opened his eyes, looking down at a stunned Elizabeth who had just pulled away. "What?"

Her dark brows furrowed. "I forgot what I wanted to say."

With a slow grin, he wrapped his arms more securely around her and pulled the tiny brunette closer, letting his warm breath hover over her moist and swollen lips. She shivered and drew closer, her small nose bumping into his as he finally slanted his mouth over hers. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered, and this time, she wasn't going anywhere.

He turned her gently until she was against the pool table and let his hands wander down her sides. Her wispy summer dress rasped against her skin, creating a warm, delicious friction that she reveled in as Elizabeth slowly lifted herself onto the edge of the table. Her hands found his face as Jason's settled on her waist and the brunette tugged him closer, nipping his lips and then soothing the sting with the tip of her tongue.

He growled against her mouth, already diving in for more when Elizabeth placed one small hand on his chest, firmly pushing him away a scant distance. The dance back and forth was mildly frustrating and a muscle in Jason's jaw ticked as the petite brunette tried to gain control over her rapid breathing. Dark sapphire eyes, pupils flaring in a direct exhibit of his affect on her, met his intense eyes as Elizabeth nibbled on her plush lower lip.

"I remembered what I wanted to say." Her voice was small and trailed off on a long, heavy sigh as she dropped her head. A short moment passed before she looked up at him again, and Jason's hands curled around the edge of the pool table. "You don't have to make this so easy for me."

He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck with one strong hand. Elizabeth chewed her lip nervously, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the table next to his hands as she watched him. When Jason finally looked up, she was surprised to see the all too familiar twinkle in his arresting blue eyes. He stood very close to her as it was, and sidled closer as he regarded her.

"Elizabeth…" His warm breath fanned over her moist lips as his own curled into a rare, impish grin. "I wouldn't call _anything _that's happened between us _easy._"

She laughed nervously, her breath hitching involuntarily when his warm, tanned hand found her waist. Slowly, she braced her hands on the edge of the pool table and gracefully pulled herself up, allowing her knees to fall apart as Jason's lips claimed hers in a deliberate caress. His mouth lingered on her plump bottom lip, taking it between his before swiping it with the tip of his tongue. The brunette mewed quietly, already fisting her hands in his shirt to draw him closer. Jason stepped leaned closer, between her legs and demonstrated his approval by slipping his tongue into her mouth when she finally wrapped one leg around the back of his thigh, then the other.

Jason's palms lay flat against the edge of the table on the cool, smooth wood as Elizabeth wound her arms around his neck.

"Elizabeth," his voice was rough and gravelly as he spoke her name, "we don't _have_ to do anything tonight."

She stared up at him with bewilderment before grasping his meaning a moment later, and to his surprise, the petite brunette rolled her eyes. "You know what your problem is, Morgan? You always go all noble on me."

He gaped down at the mildly irritated young woman as she pursed her lips and settled back against the pool table. "I came here tonight for a reason, Jason," she told him in a quiet but steady voice as her sapphire eyes bore into his. "I came because-" She stopped abruptly when her hand hit the corner of the framed canvas, and Elizabeth glanced down at her painting. Pausing, she grasped the edge and pulled it toward her, into her lap, before turning it over and looking up at him once more. "I came to give you this, for one thing."

She seemed adamant that he inspect the painting, and though Jason knew it wouldn't do him much good, he tilted his head to the side and tried to make sense of the colors and shapes anyway. It looked a lot like the other two she had made – of the dancers – but he knew it was different somehow, even if he couldn't put his finger on it.

Cerulean orbs flecked with silver met her pure sapphire ones as Jason let his forehead rest tenderly against hers. "Explain it to me."

The corner of her mouth quirked up and Elizabeth licked her lips, trailing her fingertips lightly over the bright colors. "They're dancers," she explained simply, letting her eyes dart up to his and hold his gaze. "I got it right this time." The confused look in his eyes forced her to continue, albeit somewhat sheepishly. "Remember my final project for class? I made two other paintings like this one – dancers. The first one turned out too soft; not at all what I was going for. In the second one, the lines were too hard and the shapes were too definite – it came off as rigid and angry, and I was going for a more impressionistic piece. I couldn't get it in time so I turned in the two paintings as they were."

She bit her lip and let her fingertips graze the airy, amorphous figures of the intertwined couple before daring to look up at him again. "I finished this one today. It took me a long time, but I did it. I finally got it right – the dancers found their rhythm."

Jason looked down into her wide, honest eyes and her meaning dawned on him. His rough hands found the edges of the framed canvas as he hefted it, letting his eyes wander over the soft colors that glowed bright in the dim light of his half-darkened new home. The brunette in front of him was biting her lip, studying him as he studied the painting, and she fidgeted nervously when he set the painting down on the pool table.

Her anxiety was short-lived, however, because Jason's large hands soon framed her face and pulled her toward him for a slow kiss. His mouth moved tenderly over hers, eliciting soft mews from her lips as she tried to get closer. When he pulled away, she was left breathless and starry-eyed.

"Thank you for showing it to me," he got out quietly as her small hands settled on his wide shoulders.

"I had to," she replied simply. "You were the reason I finished it. Jason, I…I came here to give you the painting. It's yours. But I also came here to tell you that…well, everything I just told you, I guess. To apologize for being an idiot." She took a deep breath as Jason nuzzled her cheek and struggled to formulate her next sentence. "And to tell you that you're the one I want." He pulled back a fraction of an inch to look at her, and she stared back honestly. "You're the one I want, Jason Morgan…in every way."

The last part was a whispered confession on her part, and Jason could have sworn he felt his blood rushing straight south as she hesitantly brought her legs closer together around his hips, holding him gently in place. Her small hands moved from his shoulders and framed his face, the soft skin of her palms brushing over the dark golden stubble on his chin and cheeks. Jason leaned into her and brushed his lips against hers until she boldly slipped her tongue out to tease the seam of his lips.

Allowing her in with a quiet groan, Jason moved closer and urged her to wrap her legs around his waist. She was still perched atop the edge of the pool table and he settled his hands on her waist, anchoring her small body against his. He'd be a goddamn liar if he told her he didn't want this; months of being noble – and a monk to boot – had taken their toll and he had a feeling that the only way he'd be able to stop what was undoubtedly going to happen was if Elizabeth told him to.

But the petite brunette in his arms had no intention of doing so. She wound her arms around his neck and slanted her mouth over his for better access. His fingers roamed possessively through her hair and he swallowed her excited mews and let the little minx take from him all that she would.

He was breathing hard when she relinquished his mouth and trailed kisses up the strong line of his jaw to his ear. Her soft lips whispered over the shell of his ear before her tongue danced along there, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to quell a groan.

She pulled his earlobe into her hot mouth and sucked on it, gently at first and then harder, chuckling when he cursed. Her teeth rasped over the soft flesh as she toyed with it, and her slender legs tightened around her waist.

Jason's own hands crept to her backside as she continued her ministrations and he gently lifted her off the soft felt and into his arms. Elizabeth moaned her approval and licked the one spot behind his ear that drove him wild, and Jason gathered her in his arms, holding her pressed close to his chest.

Blindly, he backed away from the pool table as her mouth continued to tease his sensitive flesh. Forcing himself to focus on something other than the delicious haze that enveloped him, Jason carried the petite brunette from the main room toward the staircase. The climb was arduous to say the least, and it was entirely Elizabeth's fault – not that Jason was foolish enough to complain.

He managed to stumble into his bedroom with the brunette beauty still tucked neatly against him and it was only when he stopped that Elizabeth pulled back enough to look around. The moment gave Jason ample time to study her, and he was pleased with what he saw. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen from his kisses and hers, and her dark pupils had flared to eclipse her sapphire orbs.

Gently, he set her down on the hardwood floor of his bedroom and watched as she turned around, looking about the room. The first thing she did was kick off her sandals and abandon them by the door. His large bed stood across from her, bathed in a large square puddle of moonlight from the enormous windows on the other side of the room. A dresser sat nearby with only one of its drawers in place, and the sight made her laugh.

Jason came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, nuzzling the silky skin of her neck. "Don't like my decorating skills?"

She laughed as his lips skimmed a feather light path up to her ear and back down again. "Were you ever planning on finishing that up?"

He pretended to consider the question. "I was going to get around to it…unless something better came up."

As if on cue, she leaned back against him and felt the light pressure of his arousal, the evidence of which sent her into a fit of laughter. Jason's chest rumbled and he buried his nose in her hair. "Usually, I get a better response than that."

That only made the brunette laugh harder as Jason's arms tightened around her waist, and her breath hitched involuntarily, putting an end to her chuckles, when the older man spun her around to face him. His grin was lost against her plush lips as he claimed her mouth, tangling his long fingers in her silky dark hair and suddenly, Elizabeth completely forgot why she had been laughing a brief moment ago.

* * *

To read the rest, please click on the link to my site in my profile.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Diner Dilemma – 24**

Elizabeth Webber was a cuddler.

That was what Jason Morgan discovered upon waking up the next morning. During the course of the night, the petite brunette had shifted and crawled closer and closer until she was effectively sprawled entirely on top of him. Her smooth legs were tangled with his, her breasts were pressed flat against the hard plane of his chest, and her head was tucked neatly under his chin as she slept.

Smirking at the ceiling, Jason made no attempt to move. She wasn't that heavy, and it wasn't as if she was crushing him with her tiny frame. Instead, he buried his fingers in her thick chestnut locks and spanned the flat of her back with his other hand, content to let sleeping beauties lie. She shifted slightly, turning her face into the dark cavern of his neck, and continued to slumber peacefully.

Twenty minutes passed, judging by the alarm clock at his bedside and the gradual appearance of the morning sun, and Jason was considering resituating their bodies so that he could slip out of bed when he felt her stir. Holding still, he was rewarded with a soft murmur as Elizabeth shifted on top of him, stretching out her slender legs. She curled her neck lower, jostling him slightly, and when her torso moved against his, Jason could feel his own body begin to stir. It was only when her small hand skimmed a soft, sensual trail from his shoulder down to his hip that Jason realized he'd better put an end to this.

In one smooth motion, he had wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over onto the mattress, reversing their positions. This time, when she opened her large doe eyes and blinked sleepily, he was the one on top. Her plush lips curled into a smirk as his cerulean orbs twinkled down at her, and Elizabeth lazily brushed her mussed and tousled hair from her face.

"Mornin'."

Instead of a reply, she received a lingering kiss on the lips. Grinning against his mouth, Elizabeth stretched out luxuriously in his large bed but let out a displeased whimper when muscles she didn't even know existed protested against the movement. Jason looked worried for a moment but a telltale smirk played across his lips when he realized just why she was wincing. The brunette rolled her eyes with a huff, smacking his chest before glancing at the clock and frowning.

"Ugh. Time for work." Jason nuzzled her neck as she glared at the clock, trying to intimidate it into receding an hour or perhaps two.

"You and me both," he murmured, dropping butterfly kisses along the column of her throat.

Her fingers raked through his thick golden hair. "Yeah?"

Jason just nodded. "I'm gonna open up the garage today."

That had her attention. "Wait – you mean it's already ready?"

He nodded once more. "Yeah, I had it done before the rest of the house. I wanted to get it open either today or tomorrow, and today seems good enough. No sense in waiting around when I have nothing else left to do."

Elizabeth was looking thoughtfully up at him, and Jason leaned into her touch when she brushed her fingers against his lips before cupping his rough cheek. "You know, it's gonna be really weird not seeing you at Kelly's every morning."

"You can see me _here_ every _night_," he teased with a suggestive twinkle in his cerulean orbs as Elizabeth giggled.

"You know what I mean," she replied, twining her fingers behind his neck. "Man, I'm gonna have to get through the early morning banter we usually exchange all before I run out the door."

Jason frowned as she swept her thumbs through the light wheat-colored hair at his nape. "What do you mean, _we_ exchange? You babble, I listen."

"No, I babble, you _grouse_," she corrected, looking pointedly up at him. "There's a difference." He narrowed his eyes as she lifted her shoulder in a deliberately careless shrug. "You're just naturally cranky, I guess."

Her sharp squeal echoed through the room as he snaked an arm underneath her back and flipped them over, landing on his back with her on top. Her hair was in her face, her cheeks were flushed, the sheets were only half on her body, and she was laughing uncontrollably as he grinned up at her.

"Anything else, Webber?"

"N-No," she managed to get out through her giggles. "Let go."

"Not a chance," he sneered back, immediately regretting it when she regained her balance enough to straddle his hips. She didn't realize her possible advantage in that position and was currently more interested in wrapping the cotton sheets around her nude body as Jason did his best to appear as if nothing was wrong and he _wasn't_ slowly becoming aroused. "You have time for breakfast before you leave?"

She grinned down at him, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "Pancakes with a side of pancakes?"

He laughed and gripped her hips, gently easing her off of him. "You got it. The bathroom's right down the hall, if you want to shower and get dressed."

"Do you think you could drop me off at my studio before Kelly's?" she asked, nibbling on her bottom lip as she dangled her legs off the bed. "I don't have any clothes here."

Jason nodded, reminding himself to make sure they changed that before too long. "Yeah, no problem." He closed his eyes as she pressed a sweet but shy kiss to his lips and succeeded in snaking his arm around her in order to pull her close and deepen it. She moaned into his mouth, forgetting her coyness, when his tongue slithered in without permission. After a long, oxygen-deprived moment, she pulled back and flashed him a bright smile before hopping off the bed and prancing out into the hall, dressed in nothing but his white cotton sheets.

Jason Morgan didn't even bother to suppress a grin as he collapsed back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling as the birds chirped outside his newly built house. He could _definitely_ get used to this.

* * *

"Thanks for the ride." Elizabeth was grinning as she combed down her wind-blown tresses with her fingers. Jason had made her the most amazing breakfast – pancakes with a side of pancakes, as she had requested – and then driven her to her studio and Kelly's the long way on his motorcycle. The only thing that could have possibly made the morning better was if he had let her steer, but so far, no luck. She'd have to work on that.

"You can ride with me whenever you want," he replied honestly, his lips breaking out into an impish grin when she smacked his chest.

"You're not _always_ gonna be like this from now on, are you?" she asked warily, swatting his thick bicep when he reached for her again.

"I'll see if I can stop," Jason smirked, pulling her to him so abruptly that the petite brunette actually yelped when their hips crashed together. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, letting her pull him into a kiss and set the pace. She sighed contentedly into his mouth and smoothed her small hands up his thick biceps to his broad shoulders and finally wrapped them around his neck, opening up to him and mewing when he accepted the invitation.

Neither heard the approaching footsteps until it was too late, and Bobbie Spencer was swallowing a chuckle as she strode up the cobbled walkway only to see Elizabeth melting in her nephew's arms.

"Good morning," she beamed, smiling cattily when Elizabeth hastily pulled away from Jason upon hearing her walk up. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

The brunette blushed and her nephew rolled his eyes, not amused with his aunt's harmless teasing. "Morning, Bobbie. I was just…going inside."

"I know what you were _just_ doing, Elizabeth," the older woman replied sweetly, her shoulders shaking on a suppressed laugh when the young woman's blush deepened. "But there's no rush; we don't open for about ten minutes. Are you coming inside, Jason? Can we get you some coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I could really use it today-" he was cut off by the ring of his cell phone and he flashed both women an apologetic look as he stepped back to answer it. "Sorry."

Bobbie turned her sights on Elizabeth as Jason spoke quietly into the phone, and the two women chatted until he was done.

"Who was it?" Elizabeth asked, noting the pleased look in Jason's eyes.

"Lorenzo," he answered, tugging on his earlobe as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. "He wanted to know if I was free to work on some of his cars."

Both Bobbie and Elizabeth were beaming up at him. "That's great!" the younger woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Your first day and you've already got something to work on. How awesome is that?"

"That's wonderful news, Jason," his aunt smiled warmly, patting his arm in her matronly way. "So you're opening the garage today for sure?"

He nodded, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. "Yup, today's the day."

"Elizabeth, you've seen the garage, right?" Bobbie asked, remembering Jason saying something about showing it to her a while back.

The brunette nodded, doing her best to look casual. "Yeah, I've seen it."

"What do you think?" Bobbie asked seriously. "It's nice, but…"

The brunette immediately saw where she was heading, and voiced her agreement. "…it could use a bit more of a personal touch."

Jason looked at the two women as if they had lost their minds. "What are you talking about? It's fine."

"It's a bit plain, dear," Bobbie told him gently, pursing her lips together. "You should spruce it up a bit – oh! I know! What about plants? Have you thought about plants, Jason?"

Elizabeth did her best not to giggle as Jason made a face. "I don't like plants."

"Well, how about some artwork or something?" Bobbie persisted, not noticing how Jason's eyes twinkled as he glanced at Elizabeth.

"I think I can work on that," he answered glibly. "I know just the artist for the job."

Bobbie glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. "Now that's a start! Ooh, what about curtains? Oh, Elizabeth, have you seen the windows? They're as bare as prison windows!"

"I know," the brunette agreed, wrapping her hand around Jason's thick bicep. "Jason, you need curtains."

He looked like he had just eaten something rancid. "I don't like curtains. They're all lacy and wispy and I don't like them."

"_Jason_," the brunette beauty sighed, rolling her eyes. "Not all curtains have to be girly. We'll find you some nice curtains."

"I don't want curtains."

"Manly curtains!" she exclaimed, flexing her muscles and looking at him expectantly.

She might as well have been speaking in tongues. "There's no such thing."

"Oh, Jason, you are _no _fun."

"I'm plenty of fun – you're the one that's crazy."

Bobbie tilted her head to the side as she listened to the two of them bicker. Elizabeth was talking circles around her poor, bewildered nephew, going on about valances and window treatments and potted plants – not because she actually believed in any of it, but because she enjoyed confusing Jason.

The older woman shook her head and quietly slipped into the diner. It couldn't have happened to a more deserving boy.

* * *

"I'm _so_ going to turn this into a column," Emily O'Brien sighed happily over her steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Ooh – maybe a weeklong series column! Yes! I'll call it _Why Fools Fall In Love_. I can see it now, and it's glorious. Wait – maybe I'll turn it into a book!"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she sipped her own hot chocolate, swiping the whipped cream off her lip with the tip of her tongue. "And I'm not going to see a dime for this, am I?"

"I told you," Emily replied sweetly as she batted her lashes, the very picture of innocence and magnanimity. "That's the wonderful thing about our friendship – we don't let money matters taint it."

"Yeah, yeah," the brunette huffed, hunkering down with her mug once more. "I'm glad I make such a fascinating case study, Em."

"Aww, you're so supportive," the redhead gushed, shouldering her with a laugh. "I swear, I'm going to set up an appointment with my publisher right now. I hope she buys it."

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth snorted. "Irene's been after you for years to put out a book; she'll be thrilled that you finally came up with something. Oh, I'm sorry; I mean, she'll be thrilled that you finally found something else from my life to steal and print."

Her best friend laughed and set her mug down on the table. "Seriously, though, Elizabeth, your life has the makings of a sappy romantic comedy. It's even got the time-honored cliché of a deception gone awry ending with the happily ever after. It's so fricking sweet I feel like I should be brushing my teeth after I talk about it."

Instead of glaring at the redhead, Elizabeth felt her lips relax into a bright, beaming smile. "It does, doesn't it? I could be the next Bridget Jones. And I wouldn't even have to gain 50 lbs for the role."

"Please, Bridget Jones has _nothing_ on you," Emily assured her playfully before becoming serious. "Honestly, though, Liz, I'm so glad everything worked out."

The brunette traced a finger around the edge of her mug. "It almost didn't," she admitted. "I'm so fortunate that Jason isn't the type of guy to hold a grudge."

"Or be petty," Emily agreed. "I mean, he might be a total neanderthal, but he was really on the ball with this one."

Elizabeth glared at her, not pleased. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Anyway, I'm just glad that this whole thing turned out okay. It could have gone _so_ badly. I mean, I was so stupid; I never should have done any of that in the first place."

"Okay, pact-time," Emily interrupted, holding out her pinky. "We, Emily Bowen O'Brien and Elizabeth Imogene Webber swear never to anything as retarded as this again. Pinky swear."

"Pinky swear," Elizabeth agreed, sealing the deal with her little finger just as they had since they were young.

"So, what do you think you're going to be doing after work today?"

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I think I'll probably end up dropping by the garage."

Instead of jumping on that like Elizabeth thought she would, Emily just glanced down at her watch. "How much longer are you on break?"

"Um…about six minutes. Why?"

The redhead's grin was downright wicked as she set down her mug and raised her brows triumphantly. "I want to set the world record for Most Crude Jokes About Sex Made In Six Minutes."

* * *

The sun was setting when Jason Morgan heard the audible click of heels on his driveway. He quickly set down his wrench and wheeled himself out from under the massive Lincoln Continental in his garage and tried to get a glimpse of who it was. What he saw made his lips break out in an easy smile.

Elizabeth, dressed in her simple jeans and a t-shirt was walking up his driveway with her favorite canvas tote bag tucked under her arm. She wore a similar grin as he did and quickly covered the distance between them.

"Hey," she smiled as he wiped his grimy hands on his jeans before reaching for her. His lips crashed against hers in a hard but surprisingly chaste kiss and she looked around when he pulled back, admiring the new facilities. "How's work going?"

"Not too bad," he replied, setting his tools on a nearby bench. "I was going to call it a day in about ten minutes. You want to go out and get some dinner?"

"Sure," she agreed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Can we take the bike?"

He was nodding as he turned and scrounged around for something on his somewhat cluttered workbench. "Yeah, but I have to give you something first."

She tried to peek over his shoulder but he was already turning around and pressing a silver piece of metal down into her palm. Grasping it with her fingers, she peered up at him with wide eyes. "A key?"

"A key," he shrugged, not wanting to scare her with any weighty implications she wasn't ready for. "Just in case you drop by and I'm not here – I want you to be able to let yourself in."

To his relief, she smiled easily back and reached into her tote bag for her own keys. They were hidden under the pair of shorts and t-shirt she had also stowed in there – just in case – and it took her a minute to get them out. Soon, she was adding the new key to the ring and tossing them back in her bag. "Great. You wanna wash up and then go?"

"Yeah," he nodded, ushering her into the house and locking up the garage. "There's some beer in the fridge if you want one. I don't think I have any food yet, though."

Even though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was rolling her eyes as she stepped into the kitchen. "Typical guy."

Jason couldn't help but smirk as he passed behind her, making sure to nip at her ear as he did so. "Honey, there isn't anything _typical _about me."

She was laughing as he let himself into the bathroom and began to wash his hands. When he was done, he came back out to see her sitting on the counter and drinking a cold beer. Apparently, she decided that she didn't want the whole thing and handed it over to him. He ambled up the stairs to change his clothes, and just as he had tucked a clean shirt into the waistband of the jeans, she appeared in the doorway.

"You still haven't put the drawers into the dresser," she teased, the laughter evident in her voice as she leaned against the doorjamb.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking over at the pathetic piece of furniture. "I was gonna get around to it." His saw her glancing discreetly at his unmade bed and rubbed the back of his neck. "So…are you going to stay tonight?"

She gazed back at him from under thick, curly raven lashes. "Are you _asking _me to?"

"Yeah," he replied without hesitation. "I'm asking you to stay."

Her smile was small but illuminating. "Then I will definitely stay."


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Diner Dilemma – Epilogue**

_A non-descript amount of years later…_

"Elizabeth! Jason!" Emily O'Brien wore a grin stretching from ear to ear as she ushered her best friend into the foyer. "Come in, come in. God, we've _missed_ you guys! Take off your coats – just drop them there. Johnny! Get over here! Jason and Elizabeth are back! You have to tell us _everything –_ and don't you dare leave out a single detail, Elizabeth. I haven't left this house for two months, so the best I can do is live vicariously through you."

Elizabeth was laughing as her best friend fairly yanked her from the confines of her pale blue down jacket before chucking it at Johnny to hang in the hall closet. Behind her, Jason was doing his best to keep from playfully rolling his eyes at the redhead's exuberance as he shrugged out of his own leather jacket. Despite the fact that it was barely three degrees outside, he refused to don anything heavier than his favorite jacket. Elizabeth had come to accept the fact that the older man just didn't feel the cold as acutely as she did – instead, she had moved on to resentment.

"We brought you guys presents," the brunette announced as Emily linked their arms together and led her to the family room. "They're in the trunk; we'll get 'em out before we leave."

"Please," Emily huffed, dragging her best friend over to the tan sofa by the windows and pulling her unceremoniously down onto it as Jason and Johnny took up matching armchairs. "No one's talking about you leaving – you just got here! So, tell us, how was Tuscany?"

"Cold," her best friend laughed, sharing a grin with Jason. "But it was so gorgeous, Em. I'm glad we went in the winter, to be honest – everyone goes in the summer months and I just think that winter in Italy is underrated. There's so much going on because of Christmas that it feels like no one over there ever sleeps."

"So what did you guys do?" Emily persisted, folding her legs under her on the couch and looking eagerly back and forth between Elizabeth and Jason. "I mean, you know, besides that honeymoon stuff – because I _really_ don't want to hear about that…yet."

Elizabeth looked over at her husband just in time to see his eyes meet the ceiling and did her best to stifle a laugh at his expense. "Well, we got there just in time for the Santa Cecilia concerts in Siena, which were just fabulous. We'd sit out all night on these wooden benches and just listen to the violins and the harps, and it was so beautiful, Em. Temperatures pretty much stayed in the forties, so it wasn't warm, but it wasn't unbearable, either. Jason drank _so_ much coffee, and I never went anywhere without a thermos full of hot chocolate. We were the crazy, hyped up tourists," she added with a giggle, her platinum wedding ring catching the reflection of the snow outside when she scratched her nose with the cuff of her sweater.

"And then we went to Amelia for the candle ceremonies, which were so…simple, but festive. You definitely don't see anything like that here in America. It was a clear, dark night with a full moon, and we were just lost in a sea of candles."

"It sounds so romantic," Emily sighed dreamily, resting her head on a cushion only for her fingers to come in contact with a stuffed pony. Frowning, she dug the little pink animal out from between the cushions and tossed it over her shoulder onto the carpet. "Where else did you go?"

"There was a fair in Bagni di Lucca that was a lot of fun," Elizabeth replied, adding with considerable pride, "I milked a goat. Jason has pictures."

Her husband was smirking at her from his seat next to Johnny. "Yeah, but then she wanted to take the goat home with her. I said we probably wouldn't be able to get it past Customs, though. There was a lot of pouting after that."

Johnny snickered as Elizabeth glared at the older mechanic. "So, Jason?" he cut in, glancing at his friend. "What was _your_ favorite stop?"

The other man considered it for a moment. "I liked going back to Siena again right before we left," he replied finally. "The festival of Santa Lucia was going on, and everyone was out in the streets. It was pretty much one gigantic town feast; I've never seen that much food in my life."

"But no pancakes," Elizabeth lamented sadly, playing with a lock of her hair as she winked at her husband.

"Lots of goat meat, though," he amended, tugging on his earlobe. "I've never had it before, and it wasn't that bad. A little gamy, but pretty good. And there was wine. _Lots _of wine."

"Jason got drunk," the brunette announced cheerfully, ignoring her husband's mock glare. "A couple of the guys in the jockey club found out that we were newlyweds and they plied him with liquor all night. I got some _amazing_ pictures out of the ordeal."

"-Which I already burned," Jason cut in firmly.

"But not the negatives," Elizabeth replied glibly, grinning wickedly when his cerulean orbs widened in alarm. "You have _got_ to see them, Em. Too bad I didn't have a camcorder with me. Hey, did you know that Jason does a mean rendition of _Luna Mezzo Mare_? Because he seriously gave those Italian boys a run for their money."

The redhead was grinning lasciviously at Jason, who just shook his head and stared at the wall as if he couldn't believe the words coming out of his wife's mouth. "Now that I've _got_ to see – we should get Jason drunk more often."

"He's a fun drunk," Elizabeth nodded, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail. "Ooh, you wanna hear how he-"

"Hey, let's talk about when _you_ got drunk, Elizabeth," Jason cut in, tipping his chin at his wife, who immediately clamped her mouth shut.

"Never mind."

Emily and Johnny laughed and continued to volley question after question about the honeymoon. Inevitably, the responses brought back memories of their own honeymoon, and Emily was right in the middle of the story of Johnny's unfortunate encounter with a paper-machete ostrich during Carnivál when the walkie-talkie on the endtable emitted a little wail.

"Whoops," her husband muttered, rising from his seat next to Jason. "The baby's up. I'll be right back."

"Aw, I can't wait to see her," Elizabeth cooed, clapping her hands together as Johnny ascended the stairs. "I bet she's just doubled in size over the past three weeks."

"You know it," her best friend nodded. "We're lucky – she's starting to sleep through the night now, so things aren't as crazy around here. And Johnny no longer shows up at work with regurgitated carrots on his tie."

"I bet you're _really_ happy that you're working at home now," the brunette quipped, leaning back on the couch. "Remember when you used to sulk about not being at the office?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Please – staying at home was the best thing that could have happened to me. I can't even _imagine_ leaving her and going back to the office any time soon."

"Look who's here," Johnny smiled, entering the family room with a two-month old infant in his arms. "It's your Aunt Liz and Uncle Jason."

"Oh, Shannon," Elizabeth cooed, standing up and making her way to Johnny's side to get a better look at her favorite little niece. "Hey, sweetheart. Wow, you've gotten so big!"

"Want to hold her? Here." Johnny was already handing the baby off to the brunette, waiting until her hands were situated properly at the baby's neck and back before letting her go. "She's ready to play now."

"I bet she is," Elizabeth responded, grinning down at the little girl. "You're ready to have some fun, aren't you, angel?" The infant gurgled and waved her tiny, reddish fist in the air, trying to get at it with her mouth, and the brunette smiled and turned to face her husband. "Aw, Jason, look."

"No, Elizabeth," he jokingly ordered, holding a finger up at her. "Put it back."

The brunette glared at the mechanic, making Emily snicker. "Jerk." Ignoring him, she turned her attention back to the little girl, rocking her gently. "Your uncle Jason's a jerk, isn't he? Yes he is! He's just a big fat jerk, isn't he? That's right."

Emily watched as Jason grinned, shaking his head and leaning back comfortably in his chair. "So, Jason, ready to open up the garage again?"

The blonde shook his head, slicing a hand through the air to emphasize the negation. "I'm not even going to _think_ about opening it for at least two more weeks. Lorenzo's sending over four or five SUVs to be outfitted, so I'm going to be busy with that alone. I can afford to put off reopening for a couple more weeks."

"That's nice," Emily nodded, running a hand through her silky red hair. There was a time when she hadn't thought very highly of Jason Morgan, but he had surprised her. Ever since he and Elizabeth had gotten involved, the brunette had insisted on the four of them hanging out together, and Emily was surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as difficult to carry on a conversation with the man as she had once thought. He appeared surly and reticent to those who didn't know him very well, but Jason was quite friendly toward those he was comfortable around. "You get to take it easy for a little while, decompress. What about you, Liz?"

"I'm supposed to be organizing my work for the next showing," she replied, still playing with the baby. "But that's not until February, so I don't have to start worrying about it right away. However, classes start at the community center right after New Years', so I have to make sure I'm in good form to teach again."

"Did you get a chance to work on anything new?" Johnny asked, handing his friend one of Shannon's favorite soft rattles. The _Vagabound_ gallery had recruited Elizabeth about two years ago; it was a small, indie, youth-culture gallery that made a point to showcase young artists and their works of art and sculpture and film. She had gained considerable press since then and things were going very well, but the brunette still managed to find time to teach ballet at the community center. He knew, though, that it was a challenge sometimes to keep on top of everything.

"Not yet," the brunette sighed, shaking the rattle just out of reach of Shannon's little fingers. "But I'm totally inspired from the trip, so I'm not worried at all. I can't wait to get back home and pull out a new canvas to work on; I've got so many great ideas bouncing around in my head that the only problem is deciding which one to shoot for first!"

"Speaking of fabulous ideas," Emily interjected with a wicked grin as she rose from the couch. "I have to show you something. Be right back." She ducked out of the room quickly and could be heard rummaging in the hall closet. A moment later, the redhead returned with a heavy white box, which she set down on the floor as soon as she could. "Ta-da!"

"Oh, my God, Em! Your book!" Elizabeth couldn't help but squeal at the sight of Emily's first paperback collection of columns, and the brunette handed Shannon over to Jason. "Let's see. Oh, wow. Look at you – you're a published writer!"

"And I couldn't have done it without you!" Emily grinned back, handing her best friend a shiny paperback. "They were printed last week and I just got them in a couple days ago. They're out on shelves in February, so we have a long time to go. But I kept you in the dark about it for so long, and now I can finally show you. Here – here's yours."

"I love the cover," she replied immediately, inspecting the animated drawing and then the title scrawled across the top in chicken scratch typeface. "_Diner Dilemma_? Why did you call it that? I thought it was just a collection of some of your columns."

Johnny let out a troubled sigh as he took his daughter from Jason and got her settled in the small crib, motioning to the mechanic that he might want to back away a few steps in preparation for what would happen next.

"Well, yeah, it is," Emily replied. "I've been working overtime for a while now to get my weekly column out for the paper _and_ get a bunch written exclusively for this book. Irene and I have been brainstorming _forever_, and she was the one that suggested that instead of doing a compilation, I try to go for a theme. So I picked one."

Elizabeth had yet to open the paperback. Instead, she was staring at her best friend with narrowed eyes, studying her carefully. "Do I even want to know?"

"Hey, hey, I think you'll like it," the redhead replied sweetly, batting her lashes and becoming the very image of innocence. "It's all girly and mushy and sweet – it's about finding love. What could be more awesome than that?"

"Finding love, huh?" Elizabeth scanned the description on the back cover as well as the quotes from a couple of other little-known writers. "So what's with the title?"

"Well…the title was actually Irene's idea," Emily replied, referring to her publisher and the guiding force behind the collection. "She helped me organize different motifs for each column and plan out the flow, and then we picked the order together. It was hard to get started at first, because I knew I wanted to make this book a bit more personal than my columns, you know?"

"That doesn't explain the title."

The redhead frowned at her humorless friend, exasperated. "Okay, Liz, calm down a sec and let me get there, will you? So I knew I wanted actual characters instead of, like, hypothetical characters like I use in my column. So then came the problem – how much would be character-driven content and how much would be Emily-snark? Irene helped me get through that by suggesting that I, you know, take things…from everyday life.

"I need a soda," Johnny announced loudly and as cheerfully as he could. "Jason?"

"I'm okay-"

"Good, let's get you one!" Confused by the Irishman's warning glare, the mechanic nevertheless followed him out of the family room to the kitchen as Elizabeth advanced on her best friend.

"_Whose_ everyday life, Em?"

That was the last he heard as he stepped into the Spanish-tiled kitchen where Johnny was rummaging through the refrigerator. "What was that all about?"

The Irishman stood, holding a beer in his hand and extending a bottle toward Jason. "Just wait – you'll find out."

The mechanic shrugged and opened his bottle, taking a pull as he skimmed the back cover of Emily's book before flipping it open to somewhere in the middle. He was just starting to wade through the columnist's disjointed commentary when the book was yanked from his hand, and Jason looked up to see a grim Johnny shaking his head as he tossed the book onto the island.

"Trust me, you don't want to do that."

"What?"

"You're better off not reading it, man," was all his friend said as he took another long pull of his beer and walked toward the cabinets on the far wall to grab some chips.

That confused him; Jason had never met a man as supportive of the psychotic, flighty woman in his life as Johnny O'Brien, and his actions had thrown him for a loop. Maybe Johnny hadn't liked the book – maybe it was just fluffy chick lit. Or maybe-

"HOW THE HELL IS THIS LEGAL!"

Elizabeth's enraged yell made him jump, and as Jason whirled around in bewilderment, he noticed that Johnny didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"Well, the fact that I wrote it in my own words-"

"Emily Bowen O'Brien! This whole thing is about _me_!"

"No, no, it's about Lena Webster, a twenty-two year old actress in a Chicagoland suburb-"

"And this – Jake Morrissey? Is that supposed to be Jason!"

The mechanic raised a brow at Johnny, who only shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "What can I say, man?" the editor asked. "It's Emily's world – we all just screw around in it."

"No, Jake Morrissey is a flannel-wearing diner owner who-"

"_Neanderthal_! What the hell? My husband is NOT a neanderthal!"

"No, your _husband's_ not," they heard Emily agree. "But Jake Morrissey is, especially when he flips out at Amelia O'Malley, Elizab- I mean, Lena's well-meaning best friend who only wanted a straight answer and didn't deserve to have her head bitten off-"

"No, _Amelia_ didn't deserve to have her head bitten off," Elizabeth could be heard retorting in the other room, "but _you_ sure as hell do!"

"See, now, that's up for debate. One could argue that-"

"One could argue that I could take this book and shove it up your-"

"Woah, woah! Don't I at least get a last request?"

"You have half a minute to make one, starting…twenty-seven seconds ago."

"Flip to the end. Keep going. Keep going. Yeah, there. Now read it."

Johnny and Jason exchanged uneasy glances as they waited for another explosion.

"There, did you read it? Now isn't that nice? Doesn't it all end happily? Aren't Lena and Jake together and happy and in love and disgusting? Honestly, if they were any cuter at the end, they'd be puppies. Pink puppies. Pink puppies with heart-shaped spots on their coats. What can you possibly dislike about that?"

"Well…"

"Everyone's together and in love and it's happy. And isn't that all that matters?"

"I don't think-"

"And if I entertain your crazy theory that this whole thing somehow resembles you and Jason, can I add that no one who reads it will even know?…I mean, outside of the people of Port Charles, of course. And no one listens to us, anyway, so let's not think about that."

"But-"

"So doesn't that just about take care of everything? You have your man…Lena has her man…I have my book…Isn't that all good? Nothing to be mad about, right?"

"I really just want to kill you slowly right now. I'm not going to lie."

"But you won't kill me slowly?"

"…No."

"Because you realize that you love me and I'm awesome and your life would be horribly empty with only the neander- I mean, Jason to keep you company?"

"Because we have capital punishment in New York and I don't think I'll be able to beat the rap."

"Oh." Johnny and Jason waited, safely out of sight and out of mind in the kitchen, as Emily thought. "I'll take what I can get. Can I ask a favor, though?"

"Do you really think you're in any position to ask _me_ for a favor?"

"Do you really think that's going to stop me?"

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Can you and Jason, like…do something? Keep me entertained? Because honestly, I could use the material for my next book."

**The End.

* * *

**

**Note:** That brings us to the end of yet another story, and I couldn't be happier. I just love moving stories from the In-Progress section at Solo Ensemble to the Completed section. I want to thank everyone who has read this story from the beginning or even somewhere in the middle or close to the end. This was, I believe, the second full-length story I attempted back when I was a loser-newbie, and while I personally don't think it's all that great, I won't insult those of you who do by ripping on it.

I guess it's all just a matter of one's style changing and adapting, especially with age and education. I can look back on this and smack my head my head and think, "Dear God, what was I doing! The stuff I'm writing now – like the flash fic series – is so much better! Yikes!" But of course, in about two years, I'll probably be ripping on my current flash fic series, which I absolutely adore at this point in time. What can I say? I'm fickle that way.

Thank you to everyone for your feedback and your support. Special thanks to Irene, who took an interest in this story way back in the day and convinced me to continue it past the four parts I had originally planned. I know it didn't quite turn out the way we planned it, Irene, but I think it's fitting. Thank you also to the K9P2, my very own support group. I can still hardly believe the hilarity that has ensued from my getting to know each of you special gals; thank you for your faith and kind words and general psychoticness.

That's about it. Thanks.


End file.
